


The Miseducation of Dele Alli

by JamesJoints



Category: Men's Football RPF, Sports RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Both POVs, Coming of Age, Dubious Morality, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Foster Care, Gaslighting, Heavy Angst, Homophobia, Its a lot, M/M, Poor Dele, Rich Eric, Romance, Secrets, Slow Burn, Smut, Social Commentary, Teenage Drama, Violins, rich kids, they're in college in UK which is ages 17-18
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-26
Updated: 2020-12-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:21:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 74,902
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22410946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JamesJoints/pseuds/JamesJoints
Summary: Dele is a troubled teenager in foster care.Eric is a violin prodigy with the world at his feet.They have more in common than they think they do.Or the one where Dele's attempts to suppress his sexuality fall short when he meets Eric Dier, the rich bastard who's got too many problems and not enough love.
Relationships: Dele Alli/Eric Dier, Dele Alli/Ruby Mae, Eric Dier/John Stones, Katie Goodland/Harry Kane
Comments: 154
Kudos: 261





	1. Intro

**Author's Note:**

> this is very different to anything I've read in this fandom so I'm excited about putting this out there but also quite nervous. The summary is quite vague because so much happens and I didn't really want to give any of it away :). I am by no means an expert on the intricacies of the UK care system but i got the basics, please correct me if you spot any mistakes. The issues in this fic are quite broad some topics may be potentially triggering, so just a warning. 
> 
> For those outside of the UK, they are in year 13 which means they are around 17/18/19 just for a bit of clarity and context. 
> 
> The title of this book is a play on Ms. Lauryn Hill's incredible album; The Miseducation of Lauryn Hill. 
> 
> It's not real, purely fiction, I dont know any of them personally, dont sue me. 
> 
> Yeah so after this rambling on, I think that's it and alas enjoy lovelies :))

It all begins when he’s fifteen and he looks at his annoying roommate differently, as in, Kyle Walker has _abs_ now and _toned muscles_ and a strong jaw and a deep voice that bounces off the walls with ease. He’s grown taller over the summer, he’s got stubble lining his chin and he walks around the place like he’s a real _man_ working a nine to five job, going against the enemy that is the Rush Hour on the tube with a good woman waiting for him at home. 

It begins with _this_ \- with Dele trying not to glance at Kyle when he would get out of the shower, a huge towel draped across his waist, a cocky grin on his face as he sang the lyrics to another drill song- this time Russ- a carefree teenager unknowingly placed next to a storm, the storm brewing inside of Dele which he was desperate to suppress. Because he _couldn’t be._

Kyle tosses his towel off casually without warning and Dele breathes in sharply, scoots closer to the wall and shifts his eyes towards the telly. There’s a premier league match on- it’s the derby, Manchester City against United and on screen Pep stares coolly ahead, a bald man full of wisdom as his team go one nil up, Aguero running up to the away fans with a hand to his ear, provoking a response.

‘’Ever heard of decency?’’ Dele says evenly, praying his voice doesn’t tremble. It’s times like these where he resorts to sarcasm, to the dry humour ingrained into their systems because of the shitty lifestyles they’ve been socialised into. Ever since the age of four- ever since he could remember - he had been moved around from place to place, care home to care home like a doll, had changed schools several times and now he had been here with Stacey since he was twelve; 5 people all in a children’s care home, all considered worthless by their biological parents, all expected to somehow forget this fact, to not - as Stacey had said - ‘ _Allow it stop them from achieving their dreams_.’ 

Kyle barks out a laugh but doesn’t appear to care enough to respond, he turns towards the telly instead as he puts on his boxers languidly. His eyes light up at the sight of the scoreline.

‘’One day that’ll be me.’’ He says looking towards Dele determinedly afterwards, as if daring him to challenge the statement.

And Dele, he’s never been much of a darer so he doesn’t say anything, but inside-always the pessimistic one- he goes _yeah right_ . Because if there’s one thing he was sure of, it was that people like them didn’t get anywhere, not anywhere of _use_ anyways. Take Jamie Vardy , for instance, the most recent person to leave the home, he was now 19 and a drug addict, he would come and visit every so often, tell Stacey how _great_ he was doing, whilst his fingers lingered on the lighter in his back pocket. He was a nobody. Useless, really. They all would be. 

When Dele is seventeen he gets himself a girlfriend. It feels like he’s won something, feels like he’s won a prize, when Ruby gives him a blowjob after school or when she openly walks up to him in the corridors. She’s the fittest girl in school. It feels _like a prize_. He feels normal for a while. 

Jesse doesn’t believe him when he mentions it offhandedly during _homework hour_ which Stacey had set firmly as it was an academic year of A-Levels and Kyle scoffs and drops his towel to the floor as part of his daily morning routine and Dele is once again forced to look away. 

‘’It’s true.’’ Dele tells Jesse as they play Snakes and Ladders one evening. ‘‘Ruby Mae. I know you’ve heard of her.’’

‘’What’s true?’’ Stacey intervenes as she walks past them with a bunch of clothes in her hand. She’s got smears of red and blue paint on her cheeks and Dele thinks she must have been having one of her ‘artistic’ days. 

Jesse smirks. ‘‘Dele claims he’s got a girlfriend.’’

The snitch. He probably couldn’t wait to get that one out. Dele kicks him underneath the table which causes the counters on the board game to shake and small Ella who’s just turned six glares daggers at Dele before grabbing his red counter and sliding it all the way down the longest snake. ‘ _Hmph_.’ she says. 

‘’A girlfriend?’’ Stacey repeats happily. ‘That’s great. When can we meet her, Dele?’’

Jesse frowns like Stacey is mad. ‘‘Wait. You actually believe him?’’

‘‘Focus, Jesse!’’ Ella groans. ‘‘It’s your turn to roll the dice!’’ 

‘‘You’re joking right.’’ Dele deadpans, casting a weary glance towards Stacey. He thinks of Ella and her obsession with board games, of Stacey with her cringey _imtryingtobeamotherfigure_ mannerisms, of Vardy who pops in every now and then smelling of smoke, of Meghan the weirdest of them all who never talked to anyone, of the pure and simple fact that he’s in a _care home. ‘_ ‘You think I’m bringing her back to this dump?’’

Stacey’s face falls and so does one of the T-shirts she was carrying. ‘’Dump?’’ she repeats bending down to pick up the shirt. ‘’Dele we’re your family.’’ 

‘‘ _Family_ .’’ Dele spits the word like it's poison. What even was a family? ‘‘I don’t even know who mine _are._ ’’

‘‘Dele.’’ she lowers her voice and subtly glances at Ella who looks at them in confusion. Besides her, Jesse is staring at him carefully. Dele has more words of rage poised on the tip of his tongue but he manages to hold it in and breathes out. 

‘‘I’m going to my room.’’ He says instead. Instead of yelling that they were all living a lie, skirting the truth that they all weren’t wanted and so had been dumped together. It wasn’t a family it was just a convenient way of living. It was Stacey’s job and as much as she claimed to love them as if they were her own, she was still getting paid for all of them at the end of the day.

Ella and Jesse blink at him as he trudges up the stairs. Kyle’s there doing press-ups, he looks up when Dele enters, sweat gleaming off of his forehead. He’s shirtless and Dele realises that the familiar sharp feeling in his stomach is back and he hates himself, hates himself so much. Kyle stands up and he’s got a sharp v-line, a heavily toned stomach, everything is in HD, everything is too much. 

Kyle says his name, a pull back into reality. ‘’You done Mr Jenkins’ homework?’’

Dele feels like he’s two steps behind. ‘’Huh?’’

‘’Maths.’ Kyle says, slowly. ‘You know, _school_?’’

‘‘Oh.’’ Dele shakes his head, tries to shake his thoughts. ‘’Yeah.’’

‘‘Cool. Can I copy?’’ He moves towards his rucksack and brings out his maths folder, some worksheets fall out messily. He briefly wonders why Kyle has been so busy really but then lets the thought go like a balloon. 

‘‘Sure whatever.’’ Dele shrugs and goes to lie on his bed, staring up at the ceiling, counts to two hundred and then three hundred before he goes back downstairs. 

He apologises to Stacey quietly whilst she cooks dinner and she smiles at him but it seems slightly strained, like she’s still sad about it. Dele hates the feeling of guilt gnawing at his skin and chipping away. Later, at around eight he goes to Ella’s room and reads her a bedtime story and she giggles at all the right parts before her eyes flicker slightly and soon she’s fast asleep. When he’s leaving her room, Stacey is there, it seems premeditated, as if she knew he would be there. Like she knows that Dele’s still a good boy behind the mask. 

‘‘Thanks for doing that for Ella.’’ She says quietly. The light of the moon casts shadows upon her face through the window at the end of the hallway. They both instinctively look towards Meghan’s closed bedroom door, a symbol of isolation. 

‘‘It’s whatever.’’ He doesn’t want to talk a lot and so tries to walk past but she says his name this time, with more authority. The few times when she tries to be authoritative is usually when she’s serious, apart from that they’re free to call her by her first name and treat her like their peers but now her eyebrows were furrowed together, her short blonde hair entangled as it felt the aftermath of a long day. 

Dele pauses and looks back.

‘’You seem off lately.’’ She starts with tentatively as if treading across cold water. He can visually see her picking the right words in her head. ‘’Is it to do with academic pressures? You know I would never-’’

‘‘It’s not that.’’ He interrupts. And she says _academic pressures_ like he goes to Brampton or something. His school is local, with one of the poorest test scores in the borough- it wasn’t like they were under pressure to be the next Einstein or anything. 

She seems surprised as if she were so sure she had figured it out and Dele is sure he doesn’t want her to- whatever there was to figure out. 

‘‘I’m really tired, Stacey.’’ He yawns for emphasis like the amazing actor he is. ‘’I just want to sleep.’’

‘‘Okay.’’ she says after peering at him for too long. ‘’Okay, you’re right. Good night, Dele.’’

++

‘’So where do you actually live?’’ Ruby asks him after school. They are standing in the middle of the crowd, the voices around him raised as students are finally released from what was essentially prison. Her lips are bright red like cherries and her skin seems darker under the harsh glare of the sun. Her skirt is higher than school rules say they should be and the first two buttons of her blouse are undone. She’s a walking sinner. 

‘’Around.’’ He answers. He always says that. Jesse’s the opposite, he boasted regularly that he was in a care home to work in his favour- token sympathy, Dele thought, like stating that you were disabled- it got the teachers to take pity on him and for some girls to feel the need to befriend him. Dele made him swear not to tell anyone about _himself_ though. Dele didn’t want anyone to know. On Parents Evening he never showed up either, he didn’t want to face the questions of _Why does ‘your mum’ look like that and why is she so white?_

Ruby rolls her eyes. ‘’Oh _come on_ , _around_ ? That’s so bloody _mysterious._ ’’

He raises an eyebrow, slightly amused. He watches a boy stare openly at Ruby, as he walks by them. He wonders if he’s ever looked at her _like that_. ‘‘Mysterious? You think I’m-’’

‘‘Well yeah.’’ She makes a face like it’s obvious. And maybe Dele isn’t as socially _aware_ as she is. He doesn’t really know the scandals, doesn’t know who got who pregnant, or who stole who’s boyfriend or who tried to sleep with the music teacher to get an A. But he wonders what people think about him- wonders all the time. Do they think he’s mysterious like Ruby does? Do they think he’s just plain weird? ‘‘ You don’t reveal much, you know.’’ She adds before leaning forward suggestively. ‘’What does it take?’’

Dele laughs and spots Kyle and Jesse leaving the school gates together, Kyle walking with a confident swagger, music blasting from his headphones, Jesse winking at a girl as he goes by. In all honesty, they could pass for brothers. He looks back at Ruby who’s moved on, her tone lighter and less sultry. 

‘‘Ever been to a rich kids party?’’ she says randomly as they walk to the bus stop. A whole bunch of others are walking this way too. They usually roam around Westfield, window shopping; Dele secretly dreaming of having a father who would help him buy clothes and talk about cars and take him to football matches because he’s always low-key wanted to see one live. 

Dele snorts. ‘’What like crumpets and tea and stuff?’’ He stereo-typically thinks of an outdated particular version of the upper class and ball gowns and chandeliers and the rich scent of money. 

‘’ _No_ , like vodka and sex and stuff.’’ She corrects, nudging him slightly. ‘’I know a guy, we’re childhood friends and he’s turning eighteen so.’’

The bus rumbles down the road, nearly packed. A boy pushes forward to the front of the line to make sure he gets on but stops before he pushes into Dele. He looks at him with something that looks like respect and that’s when Dele realises his arm has somehow made its way round Ruby’s slim shoulders. The boy nodded in approval and Dele turns away, looks straight ahead. 

‘‘I don’t think I've ever even seen a mansion in real life.’ He admits, picking back up on their conversation. Ruby hums in response popping some gum into her mouth but Dele’s really thinking now. What if his parents were millionaires? What if they had both been too busy travelling across the world that they had decided to give up their little son? And maybe they had been so busy that they’d forgotten to pick him back up again. Or maybe he had been kidnapped from his parents at a young age and Stacey had rescued him. Maybe his parents just didn’t want him. 

The bus arrived and they climbed on, squashed amongst a sea of bodies. Ruby leaned her head against his chest and chewed her gum, placing a hand in the pocket of his black trousers. The doors close. 


	2. Lost Ones

Ruby’s childhood friend lives in West London and Stacey is apprehensive about it. 

‘‘That’s quite far, Dele.’’ She warns him, folding her arms, her lips drawn into a stern line. 

She’s not in a good mood. Ella’s misbehaving and Vardy’s back and he’s just told her that he’s been fired from his job. Meanwhile, Kyle has been missing since yesterday and he’s not picking up his phone. 

‘’It’s not _that_ far.’’ Dele argues. ‘’Not with the train anyways.’’

From the sofa, Jesse laughs, grabbing the remote and lowering the volume. ‘’Is West London a euphemism for piping Ruby in some dodgy alleyway?’’

‘‘Oi.’’ Jamie gives him a look. ‘’What’d you know about that stuff, you stupid virgin.’’

Dele smiles somewhat gratefully, although the line is blurred between how much Jamie said that on Dele’s behalf or just based on the fact that he wanted to annoy Jesse for whatever reason. 

Jesse gets off the sofa in his torn jeans and kisses his teeth. ‘’Says the deadbeat fucker.’’

Stacey sighs, pinching her forehead like she's got a headache and Dele hopes she’s distracted but she’s not as she steps closer and gives him those sad eyes that are so _damn_ annoying. ‘’You realise the situation don’t you? I’m nervous because I can’t contact Kyle and now you wanna go out too.’’

‘‘Kyle’s _fine_ .’’ He says confidently. He’s sure of that. Kyle isn’t stupid. He probably went to a rave and accidentally slept over and then by chance his phone had died. At her reluctance he adds, ‘’C’mon Stacey, I did all my dumb English homework as well. Just this _one_ break. And I won’t stay overnight.’’

She gives in after a two minute stare off accompanied by Jamie and Jesse bickering in the background almost like-like brothers. ‘’Fine. But.’’ She sighs. _‘’Please_ pick up when I call you. Leave your phone on.’’

‘‘Thanks!’’ Dele says before she’s hardly finished speaking. He rushes past her and slips on his black coat before grabbing the keys under the doormat and leaving. 

It’s a cold day and he can see his breath floating out like mist when he breathes. Ruby is waiting for him at the train station wearing a white tight dress that hugs her shape, her hair is in a high ponytail, Ariana Grande style. She looks like an adult. Like a _woman._

‘‘You look good.’’ He says upon greeting. Ruby flushes slightly and Dele stares at her surprised. ‘‘What?’’ he asks. 

‘‘It’s just.’’ She pauses then continues. ‘‘You don’t usually say stuff like that. It’s nice.’’ She turns on her heel and enters the station and Dele’s a step behind wondering what kind of a boyfriend he is. 

++

They get there near seven. The sky is coated in indigo, almost like it had been painted by Stacey herself and two guys are sat on the porch outside of the large house, passing a cigarette between them.

One had sunglasses on despite it not being _that_ time of the year and styled waxed dark hair whilst the other had lightly tanned skin-like they were in Ibiza and not England- and a plain crisp white shirt buttoned loosely together. When he glanced up with the fag between his fingers, Dele noticed he had dark brown eyes as well. 

The house behind them was large and grey certainly, almost intimidatingly so, a carbon copy of the houses that surrounded it. It took a more detailed form as he neared it, natural grey stone with all the hues one could think of. The paintwork on the trim was a brilliant white and the path wound to a double oak front door that was wide open. 

‘‘Mae.’’ The boy with brown eyes spoke and stood up smiling slightly, his legs covered in jeans. He had a slight foreign tinge to his voice. The boy next to him with sunglasses promptly removed them, his eyes were smaller, he looked Asian. 

Ruby looks taken aback for a moment before a smile made its way onto her face. ‘’Eriksen.’’ She kissed both of his cheeks. 

Dele watched fascinated at how she had adapted so quickly, her posture a little better. Subconsciously, he straightened himself up and tugged on his jacket. 

Ruby turned to the boy next to him. ‘’When did you get taller than me, Sonny?’’ 

The boy-Sonny- shrugs lazily before smirking. ‘’And when did you get so hot?’’ Ruby laughs but she’s not blushing and Dele realises that only he has that effect on her. It’s a strange sort of power. 

He realises after a beat that the blonde is staring at him, and stares back fiercely. It’s a defence mechanism. If someone looks at you the wrong way in East London, you fight them of course. But then the blonde looked him up and down slowly and Dele catches on that this is an _entirely different_ sort of look and blinks and looks away. 

Ruby finishes saying something to _Sonny_ and whilst Dele is happy she’s catching up with her childhood friends, he’s slightly uncomfortable. Finally, Ruby beckons him over and he walks slowly towards them. 

‘’This is my favourite boy in the world- Dele.’’ She nudges him playfully and Dele shakes his head, somewhat bashful. Why would she introduce him like that? Now, as her self-proclaimed favourite person in the world, they might have been expecting him to actually show a bit of personality. Tonight, he only wanted to be a spectator. An admirer of another way of life. 

Sonny nods in acknowledgement and grins at Dele. Instead of a friendly gesture, however, it comes across as predatory. His teeth are so white, even though Dele suspected that he smoked regularly. Somehow the natural rules of cause and effect didn’t appear to apply to the rich. 

‘‘Dele.’’ He repeats as if feeling the name out, ironing it, straightening it and after, probably forgetting it. ‘’That’s such an- interesting name.’’ 

Dele shrugs not sure of what to say. He has nothing to elaborate on, he hasn’t got the funny story of why his parents called him that name, doesn’t even know why himself. He also certainly doesn’t appreciate the use of _interesting._ That was universally used as a loophole for an insult. 

Eriksen holds out the cigarette towards him like it’s a prized possession, a question in his eyes. 

‘‘I don’t smoke.’’ Dele says. 

He looks surprised. Why was he so surprised, Dele thinks annoyed. Did Dele look like a smoker or was it based on the assumption that because he had concluded that Dele was poor just by looking at him that he _must_ smoke because poor people had nothing else to do? Or he was just completely overreacting and Eriksen was only offering out of mild politeness. 

When he focuses again, he realises that Ruby is frowning at him slightly - probably wanting him to play along with their antics- and Sonny is looking at Eriken who is looking at _him._ Ruby takes the cigarette from his fingers and places it between her lips, inhaling deeply before blowing out softly. ‘’Haven’t done that in a while.’’ 

‘’Feel’s good doesn’t it?’’ Eriksen says, watching her carefully, almost like he’s afraid she will suddenly run away. Dele wonders how close they are, or if they’re even close at all. All of these people and Ruby’s connections to them. It feels like learning about a past life, a previous chapter, _another lifetime_. How could she walk around houses like these and in the next breath live in a basic two bedroom house in East London?

Ruby hums, passing the fag back and then pulling Dele inside the home gently. She’s obviously been here before by the way she navigates the room- his own personal sat nav. Dele’s eyes dart around the place taking it all in. The floor that is built of marble, reflecting the glimmer of the gold pendant light above, some windows left open, half bathing the room in pale evening light. 

Everyone there is beautiful, like they’ve all been carefully pulled out of pages from Vogue. There are few brown faces but it’s mostly a portrait of white skin and gold chains, pastel dresses and crisp shirts. There are some blue balloons spread out across the room, some of which say 19 and some of which say 18- it’s the only bit of imperfection he’s able to find. It’s all rather extravagant for a teenager, it feels like there are too many people and he almost loses Ruby a couple of times. She's catching up with other friends and again, he’s happy for her- he is but he’s not sure quite what to do with himself when she isn’t by his side. 

‘’Vodka or Chardonnay?’’ Ruby says, popping up beside him suddenly. 

‘’On my seventeenth birthday we went to Nando's and that was about it.’’ Dele says in response. 

She laughs, her hand finding his arm, rubbing gently. ‘’I’m sorry. I know this is weird for you.’’ She says, smiling apologetically. ‘’I wanted you to come with me. I just had this idea of connecting my past with my present-it’s stupid..’’ She shakes her head,trailing off. 

‘’I can’t believe you left this all behind.’’he tells her as he looks around. 

‘’I didn’t leave anything behind.’’ She says, somewhat defensively. ‘’My dad has lived in this area for years. I guess he just grew tired of it. Change of scenery and stuff. My dad- he’s got a short attention span. He hates staying anywhere for too long.’’ 

_Relax,_ Dele thinks, watching the way her shoulders unconsciously rise, her nose twitches. It felt distinctly like she was trying to defend her dad’s whimsical decisions to just up and leave. ‘’Did you agree with his decision to move?’’ He asks. 

‘’Of course.’’ She says. ‘’I met you, didn’t I?’’ She kisses him after that, her hands finding the back of his neck. There’s a hint of nicotine and alcohol but mostly it’s wet and slick and hot. 

He tries to pretend that this is his reality, that he’s a replica of everyone else here with too much money falling out of his pocket, with no worries to care about and a hot girlfriend by his side. 

++

He breaks away from Ruby later on to find the toilets- she's been hijacked by a girl named Kate who has shoulder length blonde hair and a curvy waist. He leaves them to it, quickly realising that there are no toilets downstairs that are available. 

He gets a couple of looks here and there. People looking at him through the lens of a stranger, natural instinct kicking in, curiosity heightened perhaps by the scruffiness of his jeans and the cheapness of his jacket. He makes his way up the L-shaped staircase, hands dragging along the hand rail, feeling the brown wood. He’ll tell Kyle and Jesse about this later. He predicts that they’ll roll their eyes but really they, like him, will be impressed and somewhat envious. 

The landing breaks out into two directions and there are several doors, half open and half shut. It’s a bit quieter up here, there’s less groups and more couples, heads tilted closely together and whispering sweet nothings. They _think_ that they’ll last forever but they won’t. Even money can’t delay that inevitability. 

He tries the sixth door he sees on the left. It occurs to him that he could just _ask_ someone, a simple question followed by an answer that would save him so much time but it somehow feels obsolete, given the grandeur of the home that he would be asking for the _bloody toilet._ He’s supposed to ask where he can get more wine, if he can get a fag or if he can get a room alone. _That_ would be more appropriate. He eyes the smooth white paint of the door before placing his hand on the knob, twisting it, then opening it. 

The first thing his eyes could see was red. 

The walls were scarlet and bright, kind of angry looking. A large mural sat on the wall, a scene that looked like hell- large strips of flames that reached the edge of the paintings, threatening to jump right off it. 

On the large bed below it sat two boys, faces tilted towards each other-kissing. The boy on the left was wearing a grey shirt and black trousers, his golden hair the brightest thing in the room. His hands were in the brunette’s hair, pulling and pushing like he couldn’t decide what he wanted to do more. Neither noticed Dele until he took a step back in surprise, foot banging back against the door. 

The world of the wealthy had introduced him to many things; fancy lights and too many rooms and maids and now _boys who kissed._ Boys who kissed like they were drowning, sinking, _dying_ . He didn’t know where to look, couldn’t decide which was worse to look _at_ ; the boys or the large daunting mural stuck on the wall. 

The blonde stared at him with hollow blue eyes, his lips bitten and red. The brunette took control of the scene, standing up promptly. He was tall and he was definitely older than Dele was. 

‘’I’m sorry.’’ he managed to say. He didn’t know what else he could have said. He didn’t know what else he could have done. 

The brunette stared him down, assessing the look of him. He had a strong expression and a stern jaw, almost like in another life he could be an angry footballer yelling at the ref. ‘’Who are you?’’ He asks haughtily. 

Dele almost didn’t want to reveal his name, he wasn’t ready for them to say his name the same way Sonny had - like it was a strange delicacy that he was trying on a holiday abroad. But he was certain lying about his name wouldn’t do him any favours either. Besides, he should have been proud of his name. It was the one constant thing in life amongst all of the chaos. 

‘’Dele.’’ he answers, being met with a blank stare. ‘’Uh-I’m here with Ruby. Ruby-Mae.’’ he adds, in reaction to the underwhelming response. 

The brunette quirks an eyebrow in what appears to be amusement, as if to say _why would she choose you?_ Maybe if he were familiar with the environment he would have said something rude in response, he wouldn’t usually passively accept such rudeness. But he was _here_ and he wasn’t about to perpetuate the angry brown person narrative so he bit his tongue and kept his mouth shut. 

The blonde, meanwhile, hadn’t uttered a single word, his eyes resting heavily instead on the other dude in a way that made Dele feel uncomfortable. He almost didn’t look sane- his eyes were too blue, his lips too red and still parted- almost like he was high or remarkably drunk. It dawned on Dele that he probably just wanted to carry on kissing the brunette. 

‘’I’m sorry.’’ he repeats. ‘’I was just looking for the bathroom?’’ 

‘’Bath _rooms_.’’ The brunette corrects potently. ‘’And they’re down the hallway at the very end. Take your pick.’’ 

He nods an imperceptible thanks and turns gratefully on his heel. The guy’s voice picks up again as he leaves. ‘’-Eric, why did you invite-’’ but he doesn’t hear anymore because he shuts the door behind him. 

Just as was told to him, there were about three bathrooms at the end of the hallway. He chooses the one in the middle, taking in the white tiles as pure as snow. It looked like one of those bathrooms off of perspective homes in catalogues rather than someone’s actual house. There was nothing personal about it, no toiletries were out of place, no stray piece of tissue on the floor. There was a large mirror, though, which Dele stared into whilst he pissed. His own reflection stared back at him in awe like a little boy who had just caught a glimpse of Santa Claus on Christmas Eve.

After he washes his hands, the small space is filled with the sound of his phone ringing. He jumps, drying his hands on a towel nearby before reaching into his back pocket and putting the phone to his ear. He can tell it’s Stacey from the quick breath she takes before she speaks. 

‘‘Kyle’s back, Dele.’’ She sounded relieved. 

‘’ _See_.’’ Dele said, and looked away when his eyes met his own reflection in the mirror. Now alone with his own thoughts, the image of those two boys kissing springs viciously to mind. ‘‘Told you he’d be alright.’’

‘’When are you getting back, then?’’ She asked after shushing a loud Ella in the background. 

‘’Soon.’’ He answers. ‘’I promise.’’ He adds, sensing her hesitancy even from over the phone. Soon was a loosely defined word. 

‘’Okay, be safe.’’ She paused.’’Don’t do drugs.’’ 

Dele rolled his eyes. ‘’You might want to tell Jamie that, not me.’’ 

There’s a sharp intake of breath from the other end of the line but Dele ended the phone call before she could begin her inevitable demand for more information. He was also aware that Jamie would probably kill him for that but if it did come down to it at least he would have Jesse on his side. _If_ that was even a consolation. 

When he went back downstairs, he couldn’t find Ruby immediately and almost panicked but then he spotted her ponytail nearby the large windows, leaning her head out to get some air. He joined her and she instinctively leans her head against his shoulder. 

‘’I could have been someone else.’’ Dele says, wondering how she knew that it was him. ‘’Could’ve been a stranger.’’

‘’Coulda, woulda, shoulda.’’ Ruby murmurs. She always said stuff like that. She was a free spirit ; a spur of the moment individual, an embodied Nike slogan. Dele wished he could just loosen up a bit, like her. He was constantly on edge. He breathed out slowly. 

‘’You know,’’ he begins, embracing the cold wind pinching at his skin. ‘’With all these people, all these presents and all those drinks... I still haven’t even seen the birthday boy himself.’’ 

‘’Or is it a case of ‘exclusive appearances’?’’ he continues. ‘’Do only selected individuals get to meet him in person?’’ 

Ruby’s lips quirk into a laugh. She turns towards him to answer, only to be interrupted by the loud cheers of a crowd and the sight of a large vanilla cake being placed on a glass table. Most of the guests gathered around begin parting like the red sea as the blonde boy from earlier is pulled in by the brunette, their arms linked in such a way that suggested they were _together_ together. 

‘’Happy birthday to you..’’ People began to sing, including Ruby beside him who was giggling. He noticed that she had a drink in her hand. Everyone in the room seemed to have consumed some amount of alcohol, all with delirious smiles on their faces and eyes that were open but weren’t really _seeing._

The blonde blew out all but one of the candles, his lips forming a perfect O shape. The brunette beside him blew out the last candle for him, his arm coming to curl itself around the blonde's shoulder. 

It turned out that the blonde’s name was Eric Dier and he was eighteen today. It was his birthday and this house - this perfectly cold and beautifully ceremonious house was all his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> updates will be once a week, thanks for all the lovely support! :)


	3. Ex-Factor

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> college and life is hectic right now but I'm still continuing with this. thanks for all the lovely support.

He makes it back just before midnight, in _Cinderella-esque_ fashion, using his keys in the lock with a quick glance behind him to check no one was there - something he had become accustomed to living in such a crime ridden area- and then shutting it behind him. 

He expects Stacey to be waiting for him but when he enters the living room all he sees is Kyle on the sofa with his legs stretched out in front of him. The TV is on, but it’s muted like, for just a moment, they had been transported back into the 1920s and its iconic silent films. On screen a character; a woman with a beautiful red smile, raises an eyebrow before doing a tap dance. 

Dele snorts. ‘’You’re watching _Singing in the Rain?_ ’’ 

Kyle frowns, not even startling at his sudden appearance. ‘’What’s that?’’ 

‘’A film from the 50’s.’’ Dele says, taking a seat beside him. ‘’You know- that time period that was amazing for everyone except women and coloured people?’’ 

Kyle rolls his eyes. ‘’I _don’t_ care- didn’t ask for a history lesson. And I’m not even watching it ; Jesse was but then he went upstairs.’’ 

Dele made a mental note of that.  _ Jesse  _ voluntarily watching a musical? The same person who ridiculed and terrorised the drama club endlessly at school was actually  _ watching a musical.  _

‘’So, why are you still awake?’’ Dele questions. 

He’s content being the one to ask the questions- he’s not sure how willing he was to talk about his time in West London. He wanted to keep it to himself; the endless amounts of glass on display and the boys who had kissed and the mirror in the bathroom, the feeling of watching human beings feel weightless. It was the most out of place he had ever felt anywhere and therefore it was the most interesting yet weirdest night of his life. 

Kyle visibly hesitated before answering, his hands fiddling at his side. Dele’s playful tone simmered down to something of a small frown as the silence between them grew longer and longer, like a piece of rope being pulled and _pulled_. ‘’You ever -thought about finding your parents?’’ 

The question felt like a betrayal of sorts. A Judas moment; asking about your parents under Stacey’s roof. It was something they never spoke about -  _ parents.  _ A mum and a dad, a concept that felt almost foreign to him now. All they had ever known was Stacey. Of course, Dele had thought about his parents. It would be impossible  _ not to.  _ He was mixed race and wondered if his mum was black and his dad white or vice versa. But he’d never thought about finding them and frankly he didn’t want to. They _ clearly didn’t want him _ otherwise they would have taken him back by now. 

So somewhere along the line of crying himself to sleep as a little boy and who he was now, he’d developed a dismissal attitude towards his parents. He had come to accept that he was alone in the world and he was okay with that. _He had to be._

‘’No.’’ Dele said. ‘’Why would I? Fuck em’, that’s what I think.’’ 

Kyle seemed disappointed at his answer and it suddenly dawned on Dele as the reason to why he had disappeared for a night. 

‘’Holy hell.’’ Dele breathed, standing up as straight as a beanstalk. ‘’You must really think we live in some sort of Disney world.  _ They don’t want you _ , Kyle, that’s why you’re here. That’s why we’re  _ all  _ here.’’ 

We don’t get happy endings, is the part he doesn’t add. 

‘’You don’t know that.’’ Kyle argues adamantly. ‘’We’re not really told anything. They may have had no choice.’’

‘’Everyone has choices.’’ Dele says. ‘’And they didn’t choose  _ you _ . You’re setting yourself up for disappointment.’’ 

Kyle shakes his head, set as firmly on his opinion as Dele was, two bulls locking horns, caught in a deadlock. ‘’I have to try. I’m _going_ to try.’’

A look of determination flickered across his face and Dele knew there was no point in arguing so he left the conversation as it was and went to bed. 

++

Breakfast before school was usually hectic. 

Jesse and Kyle fought ferociously over who got to use the shower second after Ella - who had recently begun bathing herself- and always spilled way too much water onto the tiles and never dried her hair properly so bits of shampoo were still very much evident as she teetered past in her towel. Dele went after them, immediately regretful at this decision as when he entered the shower he was met with a face of freezing cold water to which he had to put up with as Stacey refused to turn the heating up to save electricity. 

It was almost eight when he eventually began to get dressed, pulling on his tattered uniform and packing his school bag with all the books of the subjects he had that day. As he pulled on his blazer he realised with annoyance that it was way too big for him and thus belonged to Kyle. 

He trudged downstairs with an attitude at his terrible start to the morning, had the idea of storming into the kitchen and being all moody until he spotted the scene before him. 

Ella was already down, her hair in a bun to cover up the bits of shampoo, eating her cheerios happily after swirling them around and next to her was the rare sight of Meghan. Her brown lanky hair was straight and fell across her slim white face almost in a curtain like fashion as she stared blankly down at her toast. Stacey watched her carefully - a viable alternative to a CCTV camera- neglecting her own food. 

The story went that as a child, Meghan had been diagnosed with anorexia nervosa, the restrictor type. It had been as a direct cause of her mother who was obsessed with cameras and mirrors, inadvertedly or purposefully fucking up her daughter for life. Meghan, along with Ella, were the only ones who had stayed in the same care home since they had been ‘neglected’ as it were. 

She had been rooted in her quiet ways for years and years and even though now at 18 she was slightly better, she was noticeably skinny.  If you looked closely, her arms were skinnier than Ella’s when laid side by side and if you looked  _ too _ closely then you could see the sharp edges of her shoulder blades on her back. So the solution was simple- Dele never looked too closely. It was easier that way.

His hunched shoulders dropped at Meghan’s presence and so did his attitude. Having Meghan around for breakfast was so strange enough that he didn’t want to upset the equilibrium. Instead, he cleared his throat gently at Kyle who was stuffing his mouth with a peanut butter sandwich. ‘’Kyle, you took my blazer.’’ He tells him. 

‘’Oh really?’’ His mouth was stuffed beyond belief and there was also a smug element to his voice that led Dele to believe that the switch was in no way accidental. 

‘’Yeah.’’ He says. ‘’Now I’d like it back.’’

‘’Sure.’’ Kyle says, too easily. ‘’You’ll get it back. Just as soon as I...read some of the  _ love notes _ sent by Ruby!’’ He darts up as he says this and straight out of the front door too. Dele swears, grabs his bag and sprints after him. 

Kyle is halfway down the street, reaching into the pocket of Dele’s blazer and pulls out a scrap piece of paper. One of many, that Dele knows is inside. ‘’Dear Dele!’’ Kyle shouts, pitch going higher on purpose. ‘’You think you’re one of millions but you’re one in a million to me!’’ 

He crosses the road, narrowly avoiding a car. He’s heading in the direction of the school bus stop. Dele runs after him. It’s embarrassing, of course. Those notes as grandeur as they are, make him feel good about himself. And God knows he needs it.  _ God _ , he needed it. 

The early morning crowd consists of mainly school children who snigger as Kyle and then Dele run past- like crazy madmen.

‘’Dear Dele!’’ Kyle says, again. He’s at the bus stop now, surrounded by kids in the same uniform as him, the same bottleneck ugly green. They pause, obviously interested. ‘’Because of you, I get to fall asleep feeling happy every single night!’’ 

She had given him that one 2 months in, had sneaked it into his pocket whilst they had hugged. 

The bus arrived at the bus stop, fairly packed. Dele caught up with Kyle just as he read another one out. ‘’Dear Dele.’’ Kyle said, spinning around to face him, now out of breath. ‘’When you get this note, you should come over and give me the longest kiss we have _ ever _ had.’’ 

There’s a few sniggers in response before most turn to get on the bus. 

‘’I get it.’’ Dele says. Kyle wanted him to feel as annoyed as he had yesterday during their midnight talk. ‘’Now give me my fucking blazer.’’ 

Kyle shrugged it off and they exchanged peacefully. ‘’It’s cute.’’ Kyle added, referring to the love notes. 

Jesse caught up to them with a big huff of his cheeks, his face tinged red. He tossed Kyle’s bag at him. ‘’You forgot this, you idiot.’’ Kyle muttered a thanks and then Jesse turned to Dele, holding out an apple flavoured nutri grain bar. ‘’And since  _ you _ abandoned breakfast.’’ Dele took it gratefully and they boarded the bus as dysfunctional as ever. 

++

One thing Dele hated about school was P.E. It wasn’t the fact that he wasn’t good at sports or athletics- far from it, he was actually decent- it was more so what came before and what came after; the locker rooms. 

They were infamous for many things naturally; girls losing their virginity and fights breaking out between guys over minor disagreements. They were mostly famous for the game of Status Roulette. Status became more important once you had nothing else. It came to be what you defined yourself as and what people defined you  _ by _ . It was one of the reasons Dele was so tight lipped about his home situation, he cared about stuff like this. It helped that he was dating Ruby, he knew he was mostly safe. 

Today the boys seemed hung over the basketball match they had just played, teasing each other about tackles and shots. 

‘’Oi, Marcus.’’ Raheem said with a wolfish grin. ‘’You kept rubbing up against me the whole game. Sure you weren’t enjoying yourself a little too much?’’ 

‘’I was  _ marking  _ you, dumbass.’’ Marcus replied with a grumble. 

‘’Yeah, but there’s marking and then there's dry humping.’’ Jordan Pickford adds, eliciting a couple of jeers and laughs. 

Marcus turned away with a frown, quickly getting changed from his sports kit to his uniform. Marcus Rashford, by the standards they had set for themselves, was a stone cold loser. He didn’t have any friends and was never seen around any girls so everyone had presumed he was gay.  In this game of Status Roulette he would lose;  _ every single time. _

He walked out and as he did, Raheem ruffled his hair in a jovial manner. It was all banter, of course. Or at least, their version of it. 

But there was no doubt, that it was another extra thing to think about each night. How many times had Raheem caught him staring, or Jordan? How long would Ruby act as his makeshift form of protection? How long before the Uno reverse card would be played and they would turn their attention to  _ him? _

++

Ruby had the mad idea of sneaking into her old school after hours as they stood at the bus-stop. 

They were there an hour later than usual because she had been given a detention for the accumulation of her lates and Dele had decided to wait for her in the library, his head bent low so no one would notice him. The librarians had been delighted to see him, however, their faces lit up like a Christmas tree- they didn’t get too many students inside that rusty old building.    


Dele was convinced now, more than ever, that Ruby’s recklessness derived from the people she had previously surrounded herself with, the spontaneity of all those rich kids had rubbed off on her like glitter. It was one of the reasons why she stood out so much amongst everyone else. She was like a matchstick, waiting to be set alight.

‘’Why would you want to do that?’’ Dele asked. Half of him didn’t want to pose the question, aware of how cautious he was coming across but he had to know. 

Ruby brushed a hand onto his shoulder. ‘’Because it’s fun.’’ 

He initially wanted to say no, to laugh it off as a silly idea, go back home and deal with the tendencies of Jesse and Kyle and Ella and Meghan. To bury himself in a school book but not actually read it, watch Family Guy at nine o’ clock and then lull himself to sleep by thinking about Mr Jenkins’ monotonous voice droning on the way it usually did during his maths lessons. 

His first objection was  _ what if we get caught?  _ His second - to question the legitimacy of her own words. Ruby had told him at the party that she hadn’t left anything behind but it seemed like she kept wanting to go back, a chapter she couldn’t quite finish. 

But perhaps none of these objections even mattered and he was being too _boring_ \- too paranoid. Had all the care homes he’d been in made him slightly more anxious to try new things? Maybe it was the reason why that brunette at the party had raised an eyebrow when he had said he came with Ruby- maybe a single glance at Dele revealed that him and Ruby were almost polar opposites and it didn’t make any sense why they were together. But she was beautiful and was clearly enamoured by him and so this was enough for Dele to agree to follow her. 

They chill out near Westfield, watching other teens walk by, over half fixated on their phones like it was a type of life support. 

‘’We’re such a sad generation.’’ Ruby commented, particularly watching a group of friends huddled into a group and texting. 

Dele hummed in agreement. ‘’Our children will be even sadder.’’ He said. 

Ruby picked up on his words and turned towards him with a playful smile. ‘’ _ Our  _ children?’’ she teased. He laughed and shook his head. ‘’Seriously, though.’’ Ruby continued. ‘’You ever thought about that? Like- having children?’’ 

Dele snorted and leaned back on the chair he was sat in. ‘’I literally just grew pubes a couple years ago. I’m still a child myself.’’ 

He doesn’t really answer the question though and Ruby knows this but doesn’t push it. He’s never even contemplated having children but if he ever were to he does know that he would never leave them like his parents had; alone and wondering who he really was. 

It gets dark quickly, Ruby buys him a sandwich from Subway which he feels slightly embarrassed by but his stomach says otherwise so he munches it down anyways. 

It’s almost eight when they near the school.  _ St Andrews  _ , Dele reads with a distinct feeling of irony. A Catholic school full of proud walking sinners, he thought, thinking of the people he had seen at the party. He said as much to Ruby who huffed a laugh. 

‘’Everyone’s Catholic until they leave the building.’’ She said knowingly, her face falling slightly- like looking into the sky and seeking a single grey cloud in the midsts of the bright sun. 

The building itself was a slightly smaller version of Eton but had the face of as much privilege and arrogance as the former name. An ancient looking building with several entrances, it selfishly took up a quarter of the road and opposite to it was a park, its grass cut beautifully and its hedges trimmed as if the building couldn’t bear to look at anything that couldn’t match its perfection. 

There were CCTV cameras, Dele saw picking up on two near one entrance- Jamie had taught him how to spot them out when he was younger and thought he could brainwash Dele into becoming a mini-version of himself. ‘’Look.’’ Dele said, nodding his head towards them. 

Ruby sighed. ‘’Have you forgotten that I used to come here?’’ She raised an eyebrow at him before heading towards a corner, rounding the edge of the building. There was a small pathway that hadn’t been obvious before, smooth gravel that crunched beneath Dele’s worn out kickers. The path led them to a brown wooden door the size of Ella that looked like it had lived through several wars. It opened with a little tug of the knob. 

‘’Is this where kids hide from the nuns?’’ Dele said dryly. He rubbed his hands against his trousers in a slightly nervous gesture. 

They were greeted by a flight of stairs which Ruby sprinted up, muttering something about how she last remembered it. It was dark as the door behind him shut and he followed almost blindly, relying on the sound of her footsteps. When the sound of her steps stopped he assumed she had reached the landing. He bumped into her and found vaguely that she was looking up at him with a sultry gaze, her eyelashes long and fluttery like wings. 

It was silent. She wanted him to kiss her. She was waiting. She closed her eyes. 

Dele stared down at her lips, her heart-shaped face, her hair that framed it perfectly like a poster girl. It occurred to him that he had never initiated a kiss between them, it had always been Ruby. He hesitated, hands reaching out blindly and finding a wall. He leaned down carefully, tilted his head to the side and it was at that moment that his fingers found a light switch which he flicked on with subtle desperation. 

Ruby blinked furiously, eyes adjusting to the light and moved back instinctively. ‘’Oh.’’ He said. ‘’That’s really bright.’’ 

It was, strikingly. A long corridor stretched out in front of them, the walls on either side lined with school pictures and glass cabinets that held trophies, a wooden cross near the ceiling. 

‘’Yeah.’’ Ruby said, after a slight pause. 

‘’How many times have you snuck in here?’’

‘’Twice.’’ She answered, nodding her head towards the right. ‘’There’s the Chapel.’’ She pointed out and then began giving her mini tour to Dele. Two school canteens; one for the main school and the other for sixth formers, a large assembly hall that was twice the size of the one at Dele’s school. There was a pool on the lower floor that glimmered in the darkness and a music room that overlooked it. The theatre room was in the west side of the school, had a round structure, an in the round stage. They both stood in the middle looking outwards. He imagined the empty seats filled to the brim, people with high expectations. 

‘’I once played Juliet, you know.’’ She told him. ‘’I think I was thirteen.’’

‘’Of course, you did.’’ He wasn’t surprised. ‘’Who was Romeo?’’ 

‘’John.’’ She said. 

_ John Stones _ , he came to realise as she showed him the achievements board near the main entrance- if they had walked into the school normally they would have been immediately greeted by the sight of what was essentially a bragging board. His school didn’t even have anything like this. 

John Stones was the brunette from the party and he also appeared to be the school’s Drama King, his haughty face popping up in every photo from school plays. No wonder he was so arrogant if the school worshipped him like this. 

There was a picture of the headteacher; a slim looking white guy who appeared in his late forties ; Witsel Eriksen. He was about to suggest Ruby show him the sports hall when he caught sight of Eric Dier trapped inside a photo, one hand caressing a violin bow, the other holding the instrument in place under his chin, his eyes shut and his lips - the ones that had been red and bitten - were parted. He’d seen Eric in real life, but it felt different when looking at this frozen version of the boy ; someone who was besotted with music as opposed to someone who was just high on their birthday. 

‘’The school created a genius.’’ Ruby said from beside him all of a sudden. His heart thudded, not expecting her voice so close to him. He glanced at her and then looked back at Dier. ‘’When we were in Year 7,’’ she began. ‘’It was compulsory to have music lessons and he played the violin and everyone knew it was something special. They made him practice every week. From what Kate told me, they want him to study Music at Oxford.’’

The golden boy, then-Dele concluded. _The Golden Boy and the Drama King_ , orbiting each other like planets, kissing each other like they were drowning. He swallowed hard. He had the sudden urge to kiss Ruby. To make her real  _ to him.  _

‘’It’s amazing.’’ He managed to say. 

‘’Yeah.’’ She said, nodding, breath fanning against his cheek.

‘’You tried to kiss me earlier, didn’t you?’’ He turned to her. Her cheeks flushed in a way that had become familiar. 

‘’I- yeah.’’ She said. ‘’I thought it would be-’’ 

‘’I’m sorry.’’ He apologised. ‘’I just wasn’t expecting it, you know?’’ 

‘’I’m starting to come to the conclusion that you’re the most cautious person I’ve ever known.’’ She said, smiling. ‘’Even more cautious than the Catholics.’’ 

He smiled back and this time leaned in to kiss her. It was softer this time, fitting with the mood of the air around them which was cold and weary. He tried to kiss her like he was drowning and waited and waited for the feeling of breathlessness to kick in but it didn’t come. 

It never had. 


	4. To Zion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eric p.o.v

Playing Shostakovich at any time before seven a.m should have been illegal and yet there Eric was, frantically scanning through his music sheets and dragging the bow across the strings in a hurried manner, trying to find his usual rhythm. 

Maria, the maid, watched him from the doorway with a worried look on her face. Eric would have snapped at her for not having her hair tied up into a bun whilst she prepared his breakfast but his mind was preoccupied with other things.

He hadn’t bothered to comb his hair properly and his tie was missing, somewhere in the depths of his room. He’d given his spare tie to Kate because Harry had thrown his own to his dogs for some stupid reason and it had been torn to shreds. 

‘’Perhaps if John wasn't here yesterday..’’ She began, her voice already falling into a rhythm - the famous tune of _I told you so_ that Maria loved.

He simply played louder to shut her up, striking the d strings ten times in succession, taking his eyes off of the notes and onto the wall where a portrait of Shostakovich lay. _I’m sorry I can’t do you justice_ , he thought. He could do everything else; Wieniawski, Bach, Gershwin. But this was a step over a cliff. A _completely_ different ball game. And instead of working on it like it deserved, instead of pouring over every note, worshipping every line, he had been lazing with John for the past couple of weeks, eating fruits and having sex- eating fruits _whilst_ endulging in sex. 

It wasn’t like John didn’t have shit to do either, he was learning a script for Macbeth but he was able to balance both. He’d give half of his mind to Eric and the other half to his passion. Eric couldn’t do the same. He gave _all_ of his mind to John and found it hard to extract himself so easily from the boy. 

Maria hated John- she swore she would never forget how the one time he had pushed past her and hadn’t apologised. ‘’He didn’t mean to.’’ Eric had said on his behalf. But Maria had held her grudge up until this very day. 

‘’That was perfect.’’ She said, once he had finished another quick practice run. 

‘’It wasn’t. I screwed up the bridge.’’ 

‘’I didn’t notice.’’

But she didn’t matter. He was going to have to pray that the music governess didn’t notice either, neither the headteacher who was expertised in all the musical greats. 

Maria dished up some fried eggs for him, something he usually demanded but today his appetite had disappeared. He felt sick. The performance would affect his reference for Oxford, his ability to play such a complicated piece in a short time span to a sizeable audience. 

He walked to school with his violin case, bumping against his legs. He always went in early so he could practice in the music room. He hummed the notes silently to himself as he went, especially the bridge part. 

His fingers itched at his side - it felt so odd when they just lay limply, they were usually holding his violin or in the brown hair on top of John’s hair. He imagined how the morning sky would make his violin appear darker than usual-if it weren’t safely in its case- a sort of raven black that gleamed like freshly polished shoes.

The governess had raised a silent brow at his choice of colour. ‘’But its so _morbid_ , Eric.’’ She had told him with a sniff. ‘’ Its like the colour of death.’’

And Eric had said. ‘’I know.’’

Christian was lounging about the corridors like a predator, walking up and down and checking classrooms. He always came in early with his Father and was constantly bored. Being the headteacher’s son had it’s pros as well as its cons. 

He smiled wickedly at the sight of Eric who frowned at the sight of him. ‘’Hello, Eric.’’ Christian said, eyes drawn to his neck where the collar of his shirt was loose. ‘’No tie, then?’’

’’Gonna tell your daddy?’’ Eric retorted. 

‘’Not if you give me a kiss.’’ He said, a smirk worming its way onto his face. Eric airkissed him and made to walk past but Chris held his wrist on the dangerous side of tightly.

‘’You always look so wonderful with your violin.’’ He said, softly. ‘’If you weren’t with John-’’

‘’If I wasn’t with John, I’d be single. You wouldn’t stand a chance.’’ 

Chris smiled at his answer and let go of his wrist but not before carefully buttoning the top of Eric’s white shirt. ‘’We can’t have boys getting tempted.’’ He said in lieu of explanation before finally stepping out of Eric’s way. 

It wasn’t anything completely out of the ordinary. Eriksen was half obsessed with him, would follow him at any chance he got and had even invited himself to Eric’s birthday party. They had kissed at prom, two years ago and the Dane had never forgotten it. 

He’d told John about it but the latter had shrugged it off and fed himself some strawberries. Either he wasn’t bothered about it or he didn’t believe Eric. Regardless, Eric knew that John wanted to keep in good graces with Eriksen so his Father would produce flawless reports that would open the doors to the best universities. John was a pure opportunist, a brilliant actor and a great kisser. They were made for each other. 

He was able to squeeze in half an hour of practice before it was time for assembly and time to play. 

  
++

  
‘’It was wonderful!’’ Kate beamed, hugging him warmly.

He was slightly irritated with her as she had walked in late during his performance alongside Harry and they’d caused a ruckus as they searched for their seats but he still smiled gratefully. 

His heart was still thumping heavily, recovering from the fast adrenaline. The whole school had sat before him, in the palm of his hands and _he_ had the power to render them speechless or in tears. The governess had wiped tears from her eyes as he had played, the headteacher’s eyes twinkling with satisfaction.

‘’You played like an old man.’’ Harry commented. ‘’It’s a compliment!’’ He added at Eric’s lukewarm reaction.

Other students congratulated him off stage, some shaking his hand, some kissing his cheek, others hugging him. 

John stood off to the corner watching the crowd surround him and Eric caught his eye immediately. He didn’t look like he was in a good mood, a crease in his forehead symbolising his frown. Eric stood up straighter as John began to slink his way towards him. He couldn’t help but feel that John’s opinion mattered greatly. This was the same boy who he had laid in bed with several times, the boy he told everything to, the first boy he’d ever cared for. 

John always looked so elegant in the school’s uniform- he would always choose the blue shirt rather than the white one - ‘’It’s too common’’- his hair was styled perfectly and Eric, even as handsome as he was, felt self-conscious about his own hair.

People said nothing as John pushed past them, some peering at the scene. Everyone knew they were together and no one really cared. It was perhaps due to their spectacular talents that rescued them from any form of hatred rather than the fact that people were a hundred percent accommodating of their sexualities. 

It felt like he wasn’t the only one holding his breath. Kate, beside him stood very, very still.

John stood in front of him. ‘’You messed up the bridge.’’ He swallowed hard. ‘’Played a G rather than a D.’’ 

‘’It doesn’t matter.’’ Kate said quickly. ‘’No one noticed.’’

Eric himself _had_ noticed and that simple second had felt like an eternity before he quickly recovered, his fingers almost bleeding with how desperately he had tried to make up for his mistake. 

‘’They’ll notice it at Oxford.’’ John said. ‘’They notice everything.’’ 

‘’John, what the _fuck_ -’’

‘’It’s okay.’’ Eric said, cutting in.’’He’s right.’’

John was just dishing out constructive criticism. He was a perfectionist, just like Eric was. And so, naturally, he only wanted Eric to be perfect too. John smiled at him before planting a kiss on his forehead. ‘’I’m only ever honest with you.’’ 

Afterwards, instead of going out for lunch like they usually did, he cooped himself up in the music room, like an animal during hibernation and played the same note over and over and over again. 

Below, in the pool a girl dived in, landing with minimal splash and then swam the twenty five metres , her fingers gliding against the water, in perfect harmony with it.

He could have been a swimmer. He’d been like a little fish when he was younger- his mum had given him the nickname playfully- at the age of nine he was racing some of the older kids and beating them too. He’d always liked the feeling and sensation of hiding - something he was able to do underwater when everything was tinged with blue.

He was still able to hide behind his violin, especially when he closed his eyes. He was young again and hearing the news of his father's death whilst he waited on the steps, the raw depth of emotions that his eight year old self had been too small to comprehend. He was able to transport himself back to that moment, extract the emotion out of it, and open his eyes and be in the present again. Eric couldn’t live without his violin- couldn’t dare think of it. It was his main form of therapy. 

  
++

  
John was being crass with him. He followed Eric back to his house and scowled the whole time. Eric half wanted to snap at him to get out as he could literally feel the house groan with the misery John was injecting into it. 

‘’Where’s the gift I got you for your birthday?’’ He demanded, storming around the living room. 

Eric sighed from his position on the white rug near the television, his English books spread around him like petals.

John had gotten him a watch. A silver rolex watch to be specific. According to him it had cost over 10,000 grand. He was thankful but he did wish John wasn’t so flashy with his gifts sometimes. This year it was a watch, last year a chestnut violin even though he knew Eric loved black.

‘’I left it in one of the rooms.’’ He said, remembering. 

‘’ _One of the rooms?_ Sounds quite carless.’’

‘’You told me to take it off because it was scratching against your thighs.’’ He read page 267 of The Handmaid's tale as he said this. 

John paused, now remembering too. ‘’Oh, yeah.’’ 

Eric glanced over at him, wishing he could smooth out the frowns that were etched onto his face. ‘’You seem so on edge. Why don’t you read the Macbeth script to calm you down?’’ 

A flicker of embarrassment flitted across John’s pale face. 

‘’What?’’ Eric said.

‘’Somehow, I didn’t get the part.’’ He managed to grit out. It must have been painful for him to say that. Eric was surprised too- John _always_ got the part he wanted- that was just the way it went. 

‘’Who got it, instead?’’ He asked curiously. John was perfect for the role of _Macduff_. 

‘’Winks.’’ He said. 

Eric snorted and John glared at him. ‘’No!’’ Eric said, sitting up with a jolt. ‘’I’m not laughing at you, I’m-’’ 

‘’Don’t say anything, please.’’ He cut him off, taking a seat on the sofa, dramatically. ‘’How am I supposed to tell my _Dad_?’’ He mused. ‘’He’s already started bragging to the whole fucking family!’’

Eric crawled over to him and placed his head on John’s legs, his thighs strong enough to form a makeshift pillow. ‘’Maybe you could play a different role?’’ He suggested. 

John’s leg shook with his anger at Eric’s question. ‘’Maybe you shouldn't apply to Oxford.’’ He countered. Eric inhaled sharply.

‘’ _Exactly_!’’ John pointed out. ‘’Now you know how ridiculous you sounded just then. It’s easy for you to come over here with your sympathetic eyes knowing the whole school’s practically _licking_ your arse out.’’

He wanted to say that he couldn’t help being so liked but he was sure that comment would set alight their first real argument. So he simply thought it instead. He couldn’t help being a star, a magnet, a spark. He knew it irritated John at times but there was nothing he could do about it. 

So he offered him a blowjob knowing that even as fiery as John’s moods were, his dick’s greatest desire always won in the end. John made a face but said nothing as Eric pulled down his trousers. 

‘’How’s your mum?’’ John asked halfheartedly, knowing fully well Eric couldn’t answer with his mouth preoccupied. In response, he hummed around John’s member and the other boy threw his head back and sighed. 

  
++

  
Kate was having an impromptu dinner which annoyed Eric as he hated not being told in advance. His throat was sore because John had fucked his mouth several times, like it was some sort of punishment for being so adored and now he could scarcely utter two words. 

Eric shook his head when John looked over for his opinion after reading out the text. John decided that they were going to go anyways. 

So Eric decided that maybe it wouldn’t be that bad. He wasn’t exactly the talker of the group, anyways. He left that to Kate and John and sometimes even Harry if he was up for it. He wouldn’t be surprised if Eriksen somehow made his way there too, Sonny by his side, the ultimate Robin to Batman.

They ran late because Eric fretted so long over what to wear. Even though it was only Kate, he couldn’t look bad by John’s side. Alongside Sonny, they were both fashion icons; Johnny Depp levels for such young people.

John was still in uniform, his blue shirt no more creased than it had been before he walked into the house. He had come three times successively yet looked very nonchalant such was the power of his acting ability. It was amazing and disconcerting on so many levels. Eric was sure he could murder a cat and then smile as though it was just another normal day.

They arrived twenty minutes in, John’s hand finding his as Kate opened the door. She was a big fan of the Labour party so she actually opened doors for herself. Kate’s place was always the best to have dinners at. John’s father was a cold brute and Harry’s mother was pregnant and got really paranoid when there were too many people in the room. Kate’s mum was man hunting and was hence rarely home.

‘’Is Christian here?’’ Eric asked Kate as John walked confidently ahead to the dining room.

‘’Nope.’’ Katy said, popping the _p_.

‘’Thank God.’’ Eric said, relieved. Kate glanced at his outfit; his grey jumper that was stiff at the neck.

‘’Is that why you’re dressed like that?’’

‘’He’s got a weird fetish for my neck.’’ he explained.

‘’Not exactly the best impression for our guest, Eric.’’ Kate said with a laugh. ‘You look like you’re scared of germs!’’

‘’What guest?’’ Eric said, pulling his jumper down.

‘’Ruby brought her boyfriend with her again.’’

 _Again_? He thought. Sure enough when he entered the dining room a new face stood out amongst the familiar sights of the china doll collection on the shelf and the long dining table that stood proudly on all four legs. The mixed race boy looked familiar, sat next to Ruby, his arm around her chair tapping anxiously on the back. They both saw each other at the same time. The boy stopped his tapping.

John was suddenly beside him, a disgusted look on his face. ‘’Don’t know what he’s doing here.’’ He muttered under his breath.

The boy was looking down at their hands which Eric realised were once again entwined.

‘’Why don’t we sit opposite our lovely guest, Eric?’’ John said with a wicked grin, taking the one of the leather seats opposite Ruby. Harry was on the vertical end of the table, an elbow resting languidly on the table. Of course he was so comfortable, he practically lived here now.

The lights on the ceiling were hot and he was suddenly burning in the stupid jumper he had adorned himself with. The plates were filled with roast potatoes and turkey, although none for Kate who was a vegetarian.

Eric took his seat promptly next to John, his chair scraping uncomfortably against the wood.

‘’Eric, it’s great to see you.’’ Ruby said earnestly. ‘’I heard your performance went well. Kate won’t stop going on about it!’’

He felt John tense beside him. He made to move the subject on swiftly only to remember the soreness of his throat. He nodded quickly instead.

Finally, her boyfriend spoke, drawing himself out of the slouch his posture had previously been in. He put forward a hand, not really aimed particularly at either one of them. His hair consisted of dark short curls that coiled inwardly. He was wearing a ratty red shirt that looked almost pink, the colour practically rinsed out. He had dark eyes and lashes of a considerable length. His hands were plain, nothing that indicated instrumental skills.

‘’I’m Dele.’’ He introduced himself with a polite smile that looked rehearsed. Eric blinked down at his hand as if it were something foreign whilst John clasped his hand in a jolly manner but he knew instantly that John was being anything but.

‘’I remember you!’’ John said, with a laugh. ‘’ _Bathroom Boy_! Eric you remember him, don’t you?’’

‘’No.’’ Eric said. It was sort of true. He had been so desperate for John’s affection that night that he scarcely remembered anything else from the party. He also couldn’t be bothered to indulge in John’s game, especially as the guy was Ruby’s boyfriend and she was one of his closest friends.

John ignored his comment anyway and pulled his hand back, clutching his fork instead and waving it round and round.

Dele’s jaw stiffened but he didn’t say anything. It reminded him of when John would cut the lunch queue at school and everyone in the line would glare daggers at him but say and actually do nothing. It was a certain type of power and John certainly knew how to wield it.

‘’Fuck off.’’ Ruby said kindly. ‘’As if you didn’t get lost the first time.’’

‘’He’s _definitely_ a bit more used to it now!’’ Harry roared. He was _certainly_ in the mood. He carried the bulk of the conversation asking Dele about his state school but mostly talking to Ruby. Kate smiled proudly at him from the other end of the table.

It appeared Dele was more of a listener than a talker, hopping in with his occasional input every now and then but mostly he just sat back, surveying the room, his legs close with Ruby’s. Every now and then, their eyes would accidentally meet and Eric found himself looking away first. It was strange having someone new to the group, someone he knew literally nothing about. For all he knew, Dele could have been planning on murdering them all. He had the urge to ask if state schools were as awful as they had been made out to be but decided to drink his water in a dedicated manner, deciding not to ever give blowjobs on weekdays ever again.

‘’We snuck into your school some days ago.’’ Dele said, suddenly.

‘’Really?’’ John said. He sounded impressed despite it all.

‘’Did you use the fox door?’’ Kate asked excitedly.

‘’Is that what you call it?’’ Dele said with a wry smile.

‘’It was as easily done as when we did it years ago.’’ Ruby said.

‘’You missed the chance to graffiti the walls.’’ Harry said. ‘’That would have freaked them all out.’’

‘’Next time, maybe.’’ Dele said, a glint in his eye.

He seemed content that the group were starting to warm to him more. And suddenly Eric despised him. If he thought he was just going to waltz in here just because he happened to be dating Ruby then he had another thing coming. Eric prided himself in having tight-knit circles, bound together by time, memory and experiences. None of these traits he shared with the new boy.

He got up to wash the plates, needing something to do and Ruby joined him. Her dark, shiny hair was tied into a bun, the sheen of her lip gloss glinting like diamonds. ‘

’You and John seem good.’’ She commented as she cleaned the rim of a wine glass and placed it in the cabinet past Eric’s shoulder.

’’You sound surprised.’’ he quickly picked up on her tone. He was also somewhat offended. Why was it so shocking, so _inconceivable_ that him and John would last as long as they had? They were so similar, after all.

Ruby shrugged a shoulder. ‘’I don’t know..I guess I thought it was like trying to fit two suns in a single box, you know?’’

Eric hummed, not sure how to respond. She was essentially saying they both had big fat egos that they would struggle to tame. He remembered their slight argument in the afternoon and couldn’t deny her point had a slither of credibility to it but they would work through it. He had it _all_ planned out; him studying music at Oxford and John studying drama at Durham.

She then paused as if she were waiting for Eric to ask about her own relationship but then Dele was clearing his throat at the door of the kitchen, a plate in his hand. ‘’You forgot to collect mine.’’ Dele said to him.

‘’I’m sorry.’’ Eric said, not sorry at all.

‘’It’s fine, I’ll wash it.’’ Ruby said taking the plate from him instead. Instead of immediately going back to the dining room like Eric expected he would, Dele stayed put and watched Ruby.

Eric dried his hands and made to go back to his seat. His arms annoyingly brushed Dele’s as he walked past, the fine hairs of his jumper coming into contact with the latter’s brown skin exposed by the short sleeves of his shirt. And the way the boy looked at him after spoke for itself. Dele stared at him for a beat, a note too long. Something only akin to fascination. Fascination with Eric, as many were. 

He was sat down for no more than ten minutes when his phone buzzed in his pocket and a text came through from Francisco, one of the admin workers at St. Bartholomew’s hospital.

**_The Radiotherapy isn’t working._ **

He stood up sharply, practically knocking over his chair, announced his departure swiftly and turned on his heel towards the door until he left the house when he then began sprinting towards the hospital.

There was, of course, another reason why he had become so sombre and insular in recent times. There was the small matter of the fact that his mother was dying. 


	5. Doo Wop (That Thing)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> dele pov

He could instantly tell something was up when half of the school stunk ferociously like weed.

At lunch, people huddled around in small groups, their eyes darting this way and that for any signs of teachers, their usually bellowed conversations dwindling down to whispers and being swept away by the roaring of the wind that had decided to grace them on that particular Autumn day.

He couldn’t find Ruby. She - _unsurprisingly_ \- had other friends, girls who admired the ground she walked on. Ruby talked different- elaborated code- and dressed different- she always wore a particularly expensive looking necklace. She also had different opinions which conflicted with the status quo of their school, she was very liberal and educated on key issues. They were drawn to her like moths.

In contrast, Dele wasn’t really into the whole friend business thing and usually went on his phone in the common room, going through his social media or playing games. Today, however, he had opted for a slight change in scenery, which was why he had even noticed the changed atmosphere in the first place.

He spotted a kid in year nine suddenly - he had shuffled out from behind the old shed in the field, stuffing a small bag anxiously into his pocket and gulping hard. He looked severely uncomfortable. Dele could just imagine the boy being egged on by his mates and eventually conforming to the mounts of peer pressure- as fragile as glass. 

He walked over to the area where he had seen the boy leaving, behind the shed that contained sports equipment and benches and came face to face with Jamie Vardy. His triangular, pale, face jutted out, the bags under his eyes strikingly prominent -as deep as anything. He was wearing an oversized black jacket that only seemed to maginify how skinny he looked and sure enough, his pockets were filled to the brim with weed- fucking weed. _He was selling weed to kids!_ Kids as young as twelve. Just like Rome, Dele thought, how the mighty had fallen.

Jamie sniffed. ‘’You just gonna stand there or do you want to buy some?’’

‘’Of course I’m not buying any.’’ Dele said.

‘’Then move on. I don’t have time to waste.’’

‘’I think it’s time you came back, Jamie.’’ He said with a sigh.

‘’Back to what?’’ Jamie said, thick as a plank.

‘’To Stacey. You’re _clearly_ way out of your depths.’’

‘’I’m _fine_.’’ Jamie insisted. ‘’Check if I’ve got any customers.’’

Dele reluctantly obliged but there was no one heading in their direction. ‘’Where are you staying?’’ He asked, catching a whiff of Jamie’s breath. He had gotten fired weeks ago, he was probably struggling to pay rent. This- selling drugs- must have been his last resort. And what _business-like thinking_ , what _entrepreneurship_ , he thought ironically, selling to kids who weren’t smart enough to tell you what political party was in government.

Jamie sniffed again. ‘’A bedsit down the road.’’ He answered with fierce pride.

‘’You’re being stubborn.’’ He said, crossing his arms. It wasn’t that he particularly cared about the fate of Jamie Vardy but he knew Stacey would and Jamie was lying to her face over and over again. ‘’You could move back into your room with Jesse and then Stacey could help you find a job. You wouldn’t have to pay her rent, obviously and you could save up that money for a better place-’’

‘’Don’t lecture me, kid.’’ The older boy retorted even though there were only a few years between them. ‘’At least _I know_ I don’t like it up the arse. I think you’re still figuring that one out.’’ He let the words sting Dele before climbing over the fence nearby and sneaking out the back entrance of the school - presumably the way he had gotten in.

If Dele were white, his cheeks would be flushed beetroot red with an emotion that lingered on the border between embarrassment and anger. When had Jamie even gotten that indication? Were his inner demons written on his face like a tattoo. He definitely did _not_ like it up the arse. A more reasonable explanation was that Jamie had just used any old insult he could think of - not that he thought his comment specifically true of Dele.

He sat on the ground behind the shed and twiddled his phone around his fingers, contemplating silently.

Two nights ago, Kate had given him all of their Snapchat accounts. She seemed to like him. In the same sort of way Ruby did, but at a much more platonic level. She was hardly judgemental and hadn’t blinked a lid at what he had been wearing. Of what he had seen so far, John posted the most on his story- lots of pictures of fruits and videos of him and his mates, Shakespeare quotes and screenshots of all the _hilarious_ conversations he had. Harry posted the least and when he did it was usually Kate caught off guard - eyes half open or her hair in its mornng messy glory or screenshots of political tweets from Twitter he whole-heartedly agreed wth. 

But Eric never posted at all.

Dele was distinctly aware of the fact that the moment Eric had walked into Kate’s dining room in that strangely fashionable jumper - he was going to be a nuisance to him. He was quiet in _such a loud way_ , his blue eyes took everything in, they had taken in Dele’s cheap clothes, had stared at his outstretched hand, they had stared at Dele. Even thinking about the moment now made his head ache. It was getting harder and harder to ignore that feeling in his stomach. The same feeling he had when he had seen Kyle in his towel.

His hand - out of its own accord- opened up the app. Harry had texted him yesterday, listing all the things he should have graffitied onto the walls when him and Ruby snuck into their school, St. Andrews ; _Hypocrites , Gloryhunters ; desperate._ Harry was a bit of cynicist like him. Dele would say the exact same about his own school.

His fingers hovered over Eric’s name, the blonde bitmoji staring at Dele expectantly through the screen with a grin. Funny, Dele thought. Eric hadn’t smiled once throughout the entire dinner. What would he even say if he _were_ to text him? _Hey?_ Or a _Hi?_ But the words seemed so fucking basic. This guy was on his way to _Oxford_ for Christ’s sake, was his school’s own musical prodigy and lived in an abnormally huge house amongst other things. His fingers lingered over his keyboard doing a strange SunDance.

‘’Is Jamie here?’’ someone asked, suddenly, from beside him.

Dele sprung up like a beanstalk, dropping his phone like it had abruptly been set on fire. The girl - a chavy looking trouble maker - from year 11 raised an eyebrow at his strange behaviour. No normal sixth former would ever act like that in the presence of a younger.

‘’ _What the fook_.’’ She said. ‘’If you was watching porn- I don’t care. I just want to know if you’ve seen Jamie.’’

He managed to regain a quarter of his composure and picked up his phone. ‘’You just missed him. He left.’’ She looked disappointed and turned to leave. ‘’But-’’ Dele continued. ‘’You shouldn’t be doing stuff like that. You’ll just fuck up your life.’’

She scoffed. ‘’My life’s _already_ fucked up.’’ She said. ‘’Now I’m just finding ways to deal with it.’’ 

++

Kyle had succeeded in finding his parents.

He dragged Jesse and Dele into the bathroom and locked the door behind him. His eyes were shining with excitement. This was a bigger deal than when he’d passed his maths GCSE’s or when he’d lost his virginity.

The bathroom was essentially a cube, a shower cubicle shoved into one corner, a toilet in the other. One corner had a sink and the final corner was the one they were squashed into like two, no - _three_ peas in a pod. Three peas in an uncomfortably small pod.

‘’ _Judas_.’’ Jesse said before Kyle could delve into any detail.

He shared a similar view to Dele in regards to the situation but for a different reason. Whilst Dele didn’t want Kyle to look for his parents because the disappointment would be inevitable, Jesse didn’t want Kyle to look for his parents because Jesse himself was convinced that living in a care home was actually pretty cool. He’d been watching a lot of Tracey Beaker and had gotten into an intense argument with Dele as to whether they were romanticising care homes or not. 

‘’Shut Up.’’ Kyle said, adamantly.

Dele sniffed. ‘’But why are we in the bathroom?’’ He asked.

‘’It’s the only door that locks.’’ Kyle said.

‘’Is it?’’ Jesse said, genuinely surprised. Dele wasn’t aware of that either.

‘’Trust me, I tried them all.’’ Kyle then proceeded to tell them about how he had found Mr and Mrs Walkers. ‘’On Facebook.’’

Dele snorted. ‘’Old school.’’

‘’But there must be like millions of Walkers?’’ Jesse said.

‘’Yeah so I messaged them all.’’ Kyle responded.

Dele couldn’t help but cringe. _No way_ was Kyle that desperate to find out who his parents were. The same parents who had essentially _thrown him away_ , like an unwanted packet of crisps. It was pathetic.

‘’Ever heard of catfishing?’’ Jesse pushed on. ‘’This sounds like that MTV show.’’

‘’ _Except_ \- they knew everything about me.’’ Kyle said. ‘’The birthmark on my left thigh, the scar on my neck that I’ve always had. My favourite TV show when I was younger - power rangers.’’

Okay, so it was nuanced but it was still too ambiguous. There was still no concrete, stone cold proof that they were a hundred percent his parents. ‘’Still a red flag.’’ Dele said.

‘’They sent photos of me as a child.’ Kyle continued, digging out his phone and showing them the blurry yet distinguishable image of a younger version of little old Kyle in his nappies. It was so _weird_ , seeing him like that. Part of his previous life.

‘’So you’ve always had a big nose, then.’’ Jesse joked.

Kyle nudged him hard but the humour was desperately needed. What they were discussing , what Kyle had done was looming above all three of them like a large shadow. Dele wasn’t sure which was worse; that these were actually Kyle’s parents getting in touch with him after all these years or that those _Walkers_ were lying straight to him.

‘’Have you asked them why they gave you up?’’ Dele asked sharply. ‘’Why they didn’t want you anymore?’’

Kyle made a face. ‘’It doesn’t matter right now-’’

‘’Of course it fucking matters.’’ Dele said. He didn’t want to have the same argument again but Kyle was being desperate beyond belief- and naive, _very naive._ He felt like he was watching someone attempt to jump from a bridge, him being the person trying to talk them out of it, but them insisting that they would survive the jump. ‘’If you really go through with this..’’ He trailed off. ‘’Then I don’t know what to say.’’

‘’Then don’t _say_ anything.’’ Kyle said, equally as irritated. ‘’You’re always so miserable anyways.’’

‘’I’m not miserable.’’ Dele argued.

Jesse watched them both with a sense of deja vu- he’d seen it all before.

‘’You bloody are.’’ Kyle said. ‘’You’ve got a fit girlfriend, decent grades yet you look like the face of death. You just want me to be as sad as you are.’’

‘’I _don’t_. I’m not-’’

‘’You’re scared , too.’’ He powered on like a high speed train. ‘’You’re scared of looking for your parents. But I’m not. I’m not scared of anything.’’

‘’I’m not scared, I’m just not _stupid_.’’

There was the sound of glass clattering to the floor. They both stopped and looked at Jesse who had dropped a vase to grab their attention. ‘’Fucking finally.’’ He said.

‘’We’re going to have to clean that up, now.’’ Dele said, utterly pissed off.

‘’No. _You two_ are cleaning it up.’’ Jesse said, pushing past them to leave the bathroom. As annoying as it was, Jesse’s tactic was admittedly a successful one. 

++

He wondered when all the time he spent in West London hanging out with Ruby’s friends was going to rub off on him like gold dust, transform into a picture of arrogance and up his ego considerably but it never really happened.

He engaged in civil conversation with John - though the guy always had a backhanded compliment up his sleeve, including _that_ annoying nickname- and chatted with Harry and Kate but he stayed pretty normal. He wore the same clothes he had in his wardrobe, even when Ruby delicately offered to give him some money - she had felt embarrassed about it afterwards and so had he -they had laughed it off with a kiss that didn’t set his body on fire.

They got high sometimes as a group and stayed up really late. It now made a bit more sense to him why Ruby would show up late to school most days. Dele was always sober, staying true to his morals. It was interesting to note the differences in behaviour. Kate would get really moody and give lectures about her mum, Harry would lay flat on his back and stare at the light on Kate’s ceiling, humming music softly to himself from musicals and Ruby would get sad, the rare sight of a frown on her face looked so out of place and she would lean against Dele’s shoulder like her head weighed too much for her own body.

John and Eric became more affectionate when they got high and the scene he had first met them in revived and reared its ugly head. They would kiss each other desperately and passionately. Eric would always look really vulnerable and dependent on John, kissing at his neck when John transferred his attention to something else. Dele watched the same scene every time. And each time he saw it, the longer he stared. The sight of boys kissing was still new- but boys kissing _like that_ was something else.

Eric’s eyes always went blank and when he spoke - which was rarely - he sounded so _morbid_. ‘’I could have pushed a girl into the road this morning. She would’ve died I think. Two cars were driving over the limit.’’ He had said once. No one blinked at his words, all sadly caught up in their own problems.

Dele would have reacted and responded but he was becoming more aware of the fact that Eric didn’t like him for whatever reason. He was never openly rude about it but it wasn’t hard to distinguish. Small things like never saying his name even though he took the time to say everyone else’s, always forgetting him in group discussions, never talking to him directly. If he had wanted to piss Dele off then it was the wrong tactic because it only made Dele more curious about him. Like a particular character from an English Literature novel that was able to hold the reader’s attention without even trying.

They mainly chilled out at Kate’s place- with Eric always ruling out his house even though it was the largest from what Dele had seen. Kate’s house had a more comfier feel as opposed to Eric’s sterile one. There were warm colours wherever you looked, orange and yellow and brown hues littered the walls and floors with a friendly ease. She had four bedrooms and two spare rooms that couldn’t really be handed a name. They contained large canvases and paintings and trophies - ‘’I used to dance.’’ she had explained - like mini museums.

One canvas was of a naked woman whose hair was tied into a bun, her fingers pointed at the tip reaching for something that Dele couldn’t quite see. Another canvas was of an eye- a pale green one with every fine line highlighted to such perfections. He was probably looking at what Stacey only ever dreamed of producing. Perhaps this would have been her if she had taken the other path, if she’d dedicated her life fully to art rather than being a foster mum.

He felt someone watching him and turned around to see Kate. She looked like a less glamorous version of Marilyn Monroe- _if_ Marilyn were famous for wearing jeans and white tops, her hair tied up with pins. ‘’What does it all mean?’’ He asked her, turning back towards the art.

‘’Nothing.’’ She answered, surprising him. ‘’It’s all meaningless.’’ She smiles at his reaction. ‘’I bet that’s not what you wanted to hear. I suppose I could lie: _The Naked Women is an oedem to twenty first century feminism_ -’’

‘’Don’t lie.’’ Dele said with a laugh. It did seem pointless though. Why fill the walls with huge sweeping paintings that meant absolutely fuck all? Or was it just something to splash the cash on? He can’t say he would be shocked if that were the case. She stood beside him staring up at The Naked Woman.

The woman's skin was beautifully pale and white like satin, her hair like silk, the curves emphasised with lines that formed a V at the sides of her thighs.

‘’The truth is this used to be my brothers room.’’ Kate said, after a while.

He could hear Harry chatting loudly a couple of rooms away followed by John’s booming voice. ‘’Ah.’’ Dele nodded. ‘’He moved out?’’

‘’He died, actually.’’ She corrected him gently. Despite the sadness of the words she spoke, her face barely flickered.

‘’I’m sorry.’’ He said, not knowing what else to say. It felt pathetic.

‘’I don’t remember him at all, so its like- just emptiness.’’ She shakes her head. ‘’He was like three or four. So was I. Who remembers anything at that age, you know?’’

 _Yeah,_ Dele thought. How strange that the early years of their lives had been wiped, removed, erased and forgotten. How strange that if he had those years back, he would have known who his parents were. 

‘’How did he die?’’ He asked evenly.

She shrugged. ‘’No idea. Mum won’t tell me. I don’t even know what he looked like. It must have hurt her real bad.’’ She paused, a strange look crossing her face. He briefly wondered if they’d been drinking in the other room.

‘’Maybe _he_ was her favourite.’’

‘’Don’t say that.’’ Dele said, feeling bad. Kate shrugged again. It was her own form of self defense in the same way Dele had weaponised his sarcasm.

‘’Are you _your mum’s_ favourite?’’ She asked lightly, clearly attempting and aiming to lighten the mood, unknowingly dampening it even further.

‘’I - don’t know.’’ He said. She laughed, perhaps mistaking his sheepishness for modesty.

++

Another pattern that had emerged was Eric’s disappearing act. He was a master at it. _Ish_.

The group would be immersed in the days chosen activities, either a board game or a film or a heated debate- they loved talking about politics; John and Kate respectively arguing in favour of the Conservatives and Labour Party- and Eric would hang around in the background, his blue eyes trained to his phone , occasionally flickering towards the action, before he would leave silently. If anything, Dele’s ability to spot him wasn’t so much Eric being at fault for making it obvious but more so a testament to how _closely_ Dele would watch him. He always left regularly and no one batted an eye-lid. Maybe it wasn’t a big deal but Dele found it kind of odd that he always left earlier than the rest of them.

The same thing happened at the weekend as they arrived in the first week of November. It was cold and the nights were longer, the days darker. Stacey was becoming harder to convince to let him go out but she allowed it this time as he finished his homework. They seemed to have struck an unspoken deal that as long as Dele was getting his work done, he was permitted more freedom.

Dele arrived by himself as Ruby was already there and found Eric arriving at the same time, climbing out of a black taxi, wrapped up in a black bomber jacket,black gloves to match. Eric spared him a glance and strode towards Kate's house.

‘’Eric.’’ Dele said. His mouth was speaking before his brain had even processed his words.

Eric slowed his gait but he didn’t stop. It screamed _catch up with me_.

‘’Hey.’’ Dele said as he caught up to his pace. Now next to him, he realised they were about the same height.

‘’Hey.’’ Eric said straight back, as if mocking him. What to say next? He didn’t have much time before they reached Kate’s doorstep and Eric was given the license to ignore him once and for all. The blonde stopped dead still and stared at him expectantly. If he had wanted to fade into the background by wearing only black, it felt like the pure opposite- his blue eyes standing out against the inky black of his coat like sapphires.'

‘’So why Oxford?’’ He asked, at last. It was neither the best of questions nor the worst. But Eric wouldn’t be able to answer it with a simple gesture, it would take at least a sentence. It would take speaking to Dele directly instead of the half-arsed glance he usually took to. A soft breeze nibbled at his fingertips, he responded by putting his hands snugly into the pockets.

Eric took some time to answer, as if he himself was contemplating the question for the first time. ‘’Oxford is where perfection lies.’’ He said stiffly, as if quietly offended that Dele would have asked such a stupid question. _Poor kid_ , he must have been thinking. The poor part being literal.

Dele didn’t agree though. Perfection didn’t lie at Oxford or any other prestigious institution, it was a concept constructed to push false narratives. ‘’But perfection doesn’t exist.’’ He had replied, somewhat daringly. _Very daringly_ , if Eric’s scowl was anything to go off of.

He realised this probably wasn’t doing him any favours in the _why does Eric dislike me_ department. And yet, somehow this was better. To get an actual human reaction from the boy who treated him like air and whose moods consisted of being high or seriously quiet. This was definitely better. _Look at me_ , Dele thought.

‘’Of course, to _you_ it doesn’t.’’ Eric said potently. ‘’Some of us can actually reach it.’’

‘’Yourself, you mean.’’

‘’It’s getting cold.’’ Eric said, turning swiftly to climb up Kate’s doorsteps.

‘’You’re wearing the thickest jacket I’ve ever seen.’’ Dele pointed out, but the blonde had already stepped inside the building.

Eric seemed more determined than ever to ignore him and Dele was more determined than ever to get him to acknowledge him; he posed unanswered questions to Eric the whole afternoon, the latter easily able to ignore him by simply scooting up closer to his boyfriend John or drinking whatever faceless liquid they were indulging in that time.

At the end of it all, Eric would always look at his phone and then leave. Dele swore to follow him one day- he was gripped by a neverending urge to talk to Eric or _something or anything_. Anything at all.


	6. Superstar

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it would feel too weird to post without mentioning the global pandemic we are all currently living through - to whoever is reading this, i hope and pray you and your family are safe and please try to stay at home as much as you can. I have tried to find positives from this situation and one is that I get to spend more time writing and doing what I love, especially as school is cancelled. Lets try to be positive and this too shall pass x

‘’Late _once again_ , Miss Mae.’’ The headteacher said potently, the unexpected change in the content of his speech, woke half of the sixth formers. His assembly was boring and mundane, a routine reminder on the school’s _strict_ uniform policy- a point undermined by several girls in year 13 who had face piercings in abundance and earrings much larger than the size of a five pence coin.

Ruby had interrupted him halfway through, her presence always noticeable, lips pursed and her hair beautifully done as it was so often. The look on her face instantly informed Dele that she was high- he had seen that expression way too many times now. Like she was half here and half somewhere else.

She didn’t even seem to notice Mr Stanley and his bold head, his assertion of authority and power merely a facade against a body of students who couldn’t give a flying fuck.

'’Dele?’’ Ruby said, turning to look at all of them. She sounded strangely insistent.

At the mention of his name, he wanted to sink into his chair. He was half embarrassed for her and knew she would hate herself for her behaviour later on. He was confused as to why she was even high at nine fucking a.m in the morning? It didn’t make any sense.

Jesse beside him glanced at him before nudging him, a weird look on his face. They all slowly turned until they were all looking at him. It felt something like a nightmare. He never thought of himself as the type to stand out and he didn’t really want to. Had never wanted to. Why was Ruby doing this? What was wrong with her?

Despite their predicament she looked relieved to see him. Mr Stanley, for as much as he was the moral vanguard within the room, seemed just as curious as everyone else. ‘’ _Dele.’’_ She said with a happy smile.

‘’Yeah?’’ He replies, his voice sounding distant. He didn't mean for it to but he wants the ground to swallow him up whole. ‘’I love you.’’ she added. ‘’I’m not even joking.’’

Dele bit his lip and stood then, making a split decision that he had to get them both out of there.

‘’ _What the fuck._ ’’ Kyle said, the first to break their shared monopoly over the conversation in the room. This seemed to empower everyone else to get their own two cents in, opinions flying left right and centre, some of the girls feeling sorry for her, their bittered experiences with boyfriends souring their comments. Some of the boys seemed a little envious, some of the more experienced students figured it out and attempted to guess between them what exactly she was high _on._

_’'Nutmegs.’’_

_‘'_ _Bath Salts.’’_

_‘’Nah- I reckon its cough syrup.’’_

Dele made his way through the aisle, minding people’s scuffed kickers on his way, feeling Jesse pinch him along the way. _Sort your missus out-_ it meant. The realisation that this was his responsibility now accompanied the feeling of whether he wanted it or not.

Ruby swayed on her feet lightly, she was wearing her favourite heeled boots, her eyes fixed firmly on him. ‘’I’m not joking.’’ she repeated.

‘’ _Ruby._ ’’ He sighed once he was near her, grabbing her arm gently and leading them out of the hall.

‘’Because I was thinking about it and it’s the only way to describe it- love. I looked at all of the definitions.’’

He was certain that she was waffling now and was willing to overlook it in favour of waiting for her to come back down to earth and realise where she was and _who_ she was. But then Ruby shook him off her with such sudden rigidness that he paused. The air felt different somehow. ‘’Don’t you believe it?’’

‘’What?’’ he couldn’t help but sound exasperated. ‘’You’ve just fucking embarrased yourself.’’ _and me_ , he thought. The whole being in care thing was enough to keep a low profile and he didn’t need antics like this to make him some sort of _notorious b-tech celebrity_.

‘’Is that all you care about?’’ she snapped, her brown eyes simmering but not with tears, something else. Like anger. ‘’I tell you how I feel and you treat me like a child.’’

‘’You don’t know what you want right now.’’ he insists, he’s convinced he’s saying the right things. That sober Ruby would also be cringing at herself right now. But the dazed look is fading quickly from her eyes.

'‘I want _you_ to want _me_.’’ She said firmly, clearly, so well articulated that he knew that she meant it. ‘’To kiss me, touch me, damn it Dele I want you to _fuck_ me.’’

Dele blinks at her, his mouth parting slightly. Of course, being in a relationship sex was always a distant possibility. But to have her vocalise it was a different thing.

Ruby’s left hand took his own and placed it boldly on her left boob, right there in the corridors with the hum of the aftermath in the assembly hall the only salient noises. ‘’We haven’t done as much as I thought we would. And you’re too sweet to ask. I thought you were scared that you would be pressuring me into having sex. But you wouldn’t be- _won’t be_. Because I want to. That’s good right?’’ She asked quickly, perhaps also receptive to the fact that it was increasingly becoming a one sided conversation.

Dele was thinking hard. As weirdly as the whole thing had come about, maybe it was a blessing in disguise. If he actually got round to fucking a girl, to replicate the timeless desired scenes of a female squirming underneath him in beautiful flesh, something akin to the portrait of _The Naked Woman,_ tits bouncing up and down and back arched, then maybe-, maybe he wouldn’t be so- _gay._

‘’That’s really good.’’ Dele says, his right arm wrapping itself around her waist. Ruby broke out a small smile. ‘’I’m sorry.’’ He said. ‘’For-.’’

‘’ _Shhh.’’_ Ruby said placing a finger to his lips. ‘’Wanna bunk?’’

He smiled in lieu of agreeing. They were damned if they stayed and damned if they left. They might as well have been damned whilst having a bit of fun. 

++

Dele makes it good for her, if anything. She orgasms twice, her nails digging deeply into his back, her legs wrapped around his waist. And that Monday morning vibe, a certain type of languidness derived from it being the beginning of a new week, drifts towards them as they lay side by side afterwards, blinking up at the cream ceiling of Ruby’s room.

She had initially suggested going to his place, her excitement at finally finding out where he lived overt with her tone but Dele had quickly shut that down, forging some sort of half-hearted excuse. Maybe he was fooling himself in his attempts to hide that he lived in a care home. From what he had seen so far, it was likely that Ruby wouldn’t care that much. In fact, maybe her reaction would be the opposite and she would entertain the idea, befriending Ella with ease and even attempting to draw Meghan into a conversation, after complimenting Stacey’s artistic skills of course. Somehow that thought was even scarier.

He wasn’t really sure what he was doing here; holding Ruby close and yet at arms length simultaneously. Dele increasingly felt like he was fighting an exhausting battle with his head which channeled into his actions. He’d lost his virginity now in a crazed attempt to maintain control of his own narrative as a heterosexual dude and in doing so had dragged Ruby into his own shit.

She loved him. She had said as much at school and then again several times whilst they’d had sex. _I’ve looked at the definitions._ And the thing was - Dele loved her too, just _not in the same way_. Really, she was his best friend when he thought about it. He didn’t hang around with anyone else this much. Ruby was quiet beside him, the blue duvet cover pulled up to her chin, her hair spilled all over her face. She glanced in his direction, feeling his eyes on her. She huffed a smile, content to bask in the silence and began playing with his hair.

Dele grabbed his phone wanting to keep his hands busy and went on Snapchat, his hand jerking as he noticed that Eric had posted onto his story. It was a video of John eating breakfast opposite him, bed hair and tired eyes and all. A picture of intimacy. John had smirked at the camera before it ended and Dele replayed it, not giving a fuck. That was a different sort of love. He made a decision.

 **_Hey,_ ** he texted Eric. **_Don’t air me,_ **he added precariously.

To his surprise, Eric opened his text pretty quickly but of course aired it. He sent the angry emoji in response and waited for a reply. It was sort of a thrill, attempting conversation with someone who blatantly disliked you.

 _A **ren’t you supposed to be at school?** _Eric texted a couple of minutes later.

Dele glanced at the time; five past eleven. **_Aren’t you?_ **He shot back.

Eric didn’t reply for ages. Then, finally. **_Not when my mouth is this sore._ **

The implications were so clear, so blunt and direct that Dele couldn’t help but flush. He was sure his skin was hot to the touch. The idea of Eric’s lips- which he remembered staring at in the St Andrew’s achievements board- being bitten and red was so erotic in that exact moment in time. He blamed his reaction on the lingering smell of sex within the air, heightening his senses.

‘’Who are you texting?’’ Ruby asked evenly, her hand still running through his hair. For a split second, he’d forgotten that she was there.

‘’Jesse.’’ He said instinctively, the lie rolling off his tongue. ‘’He says Mr. Stanley’s looking for us.’’

‘’Fuck him.’’ Ruby said quietly with a laugh.

Dele decided not to reply to Eric. What the fuck would he say to that? It felt like the comment was intentional on Eric’s behalf, as if he knew it would make Dele uncomfortable. Eric was quiet, sure, but he was inquisitive, as sharp as a knife. He wouldn’t be surprised if Eric had sussed him out on the first day they’d met properly with Dele staring at him like a goldfish every so often. What was that thing called? A _gaydar._

The dynamic between them was so imbalanced and unfair, it felt like Eric was always two steps ahead, ready with a retort to shut him down or trip him up. The only person whittier than Eric was John. He supposed that was why they were together. Very complimentary.

_Not when my mouth is this sore._

Dele screwed up his face. Imagine Eric, the closest version he knew to royalty, on his knees like a bitch, getting his mouth destroyed by John _fucking_ Stones. What was it about John that made Eric so pilant and needy? How had John acquired that sort of power and wielded it so effectively?

He tossed his phone back towards the set of drawers and met Ruby’s gaze. They stare at each other silently.

‘’Were you a virgin, Dele?’’ She asks suddenly.

He inhales sharply at the question. ‘’Was it bad or something?’’ He asks, tone halfway between the realms of defensiveness and insecurity.

‘’No.’’ She says firmly. ‘’It was good. I was just.. asking.’’

‘’Oh.’’ He swallows hard. ‘’I was’’

‘’See I _wish_ you would tell me stuff like that.’’ She says softly. ‘’You should know that I would never judge you.'' she paused and moved closer towards him, her face lighting up. That was the thing about Ruby- if she were down or sad it would only be for a bit before happiness took over again. ''Tell me something else I don’t know.’’

_I’m in a care home, I’m a liar, I resort to sarcasm when placed in difficult situations, I think Eric Dier is a very interesting person._

‘’I think Marcus Rashford deserves better.’’ he says, honestly. He's surprised to admit that he means it. Marcus _did_ deserve better than the endless mocking he faced from the _top dogs._ If Dele were braver, if he were someone else, then he’d attempt to break the cycle. If he were braver he’d stand up for Marcus, at least back him. 

‘’You know what, I agree with that a hundred percent.’’ She makes a face. ‘’The boys are too caught up in their ‘lads’ culture. We learnt about it in Sociology.’’ She says, her eyes flicking towards him. ‘’You’re so different to other boys, though.’’

But she didn't know that her compliment only spiked at his skin. 

++

When Eric walks through the door later that evening, he enters Kate’s living room in a royal blue sweater and faded jeans and quite noticeably-alone.

Dele instinctively sits up from his place on one of the couches next to Harry who’s plaiting Kate’s hair. Soft music is playing in the background from Spotify on the telly, something Ruby had insisted on so she could get bits of her homework done. Dele had been laying down, lost in his own thoughts, debating whether to also do some of the homework due the next day or just continue to gaze out of the window at the groups of teenagers on their way home, moody looks on their faces to match the shitty grey weather. But then Eric had entered the room and suddenly Dele’s thoughts were no longer his own.

Greetings were exchanged half-heartedly- there was this distinct feeling of burnout and tiredness. the burden of A-Levels getting to them all. Eric glanced over at Dele making his whole body alert and Dele waited to be seen, acknowledged. But Eric’s eyes flicked away from him and became more preoccupied with the telly, switching the music to Sebastian Bach.

Dele had heard of him vaguely. Some white dude which the school curriculum adored. He wasn’t about to be ignored, though. ‘’You alright?’’ he nodded at Eric, his feet tapping against the smooth red rug below.

‘’I’m great.’’ Eric replied swiftly, tossing the remote onto the couch so it bumped against Dele’s thigh. ‘’And yourself?’’ His tone was polite and coordial, as if treating Dele like a stranger. Like Dele hadn't been a part of this group for a while now. It annoyed him. 

‘’Good.’’ Dele replied, after a beat. ‘’I’m good.’’

Eric turned sharply on his heel and went towards the kitchen. Dele had the sudden need for a drink of water. Eric was rummaging through one of the cupboards such was the ease he felt in Kate’s house. He didn’t flinch at Dele’s presence.

‘’Hungry?’’ Dele asked conversationally. ‘’She’s mainly got like biscuits and nuts in there.’’ He’d checked earlier himself when feeling a bit peckish. Eric grabbed a packet of Digestives, placing several onto a plate neatly.

‘’Can I help you?’’ He questioned reluctantly. The white skin at his neck complimented the richness of his blue jumper which looked like it was worth the same amount as Dele’s whole wardrobe. He couldn’t stop fucking _staring._ Eric was Adolf Hitler’s wet dream, an ode to the Aryan race with golden blonde hair and blue eyes to match, academically gifted and driven by ambition, sickeningly upright posture as if he were in the navy, smooth Caucasian skin- he was staring again.

Eric was looking at him strangely. ‘’You know, you keep doing that. ’’ _Staring at me_ , is the part he leaves out.

Dele felt embarrassed and his brain scrambled to find a response. ‘’Was just checking...are your lips still sore?’’ Dele said. It was an _awful_ response. Absolute tier 4 sort of stuff.

A sardonic smile wormed its way onto Eric’s face. ‘’They’re fine.’’ he replied pointedly.

Instead of Eric ignoring him, he now just thought he was plain stupid. When, later, Harry and Kate and Ruby got into political jargon, Eric made a snide comment about them slowing down so Dele didn’t get _too confused_. Ruby threw a critical look Eric's way and smiled at Dele apologetically but he was too annoyed to smile back.

What was the point of this? Dele had never been so openly disliked by anyone before-in his life. And he’d met a whole load of people. The only thing that really came close was probably Lenny, one of the boys at his third or fourth care home who made a continuous effort to step on his shoes everyday for two whole months.

He had a random thought of what Jesse’s thoughts might be regarding the whole situation. _He’s probably racist,_ he could hear Jesse saying. He entertained the thought for a split second before dismissing it. There was no way either Kate or Ruby would be such close friends with someone who was openly prejudiced like that.

Eric made to leave early again, grabbing his coat whilst the rest watched some re-runs of the X-factor, Dele subtly watched him leave without a second glance.

With the four of them here; just Ruby, himself, Kate and Harry it was probably the most comfortable he’d ever felt without the extra layers of tension Eric and John added to everything.

And yet, _he wanted to leave_. He was going to follow Eric.

‘’My mum just texted me.’’ he said standing up, the words feeling foreign. _Mum._ ‘’I’ve got to go..’’

‘’Alright,’’ Ruby said, standing up with him.

‘’No.’’ he said quickly. ‘’You stay.’’ He kissed her forehead for good measure. ‘’I don’t want to spoil your fun.’’

She smiled at him, probably surprised and won over by the gesture. ‘’Okay.’’ she nodded.

He left with his heart in his mouth, spotting the blonde tufts of Eric’s hair all the way down the road. He was walking quite hurridily despite the nonchalant way he’d left Kate’s house. Dele followed at a fair distance, pulling the zip of his coat all the way up to his chin, enjoying the way it ripped into his skin. It’s what he deserved for what he was doing. What he _was_ doing, he wasn’t sure. He just knew that Eric always leaving early bothered him too much.

Eric turned right down the street, briskly striding into St. Bartholomew'shospital. Dele frowned and hesitated. What would Eric be doing at a hospital? As far as Dele had seen he’d looked perfectly fine and healthy. He waited a minute before entering the hospital as well, the sickly feeling of beeps and cleanliness washing over him. He rarely went to hospitals. The last time he’d been to one was when Ella had had the flu when she was four. Most of his perceptions of them derived from films and shows, soap operas and melodramas.

The reality was quite eerie.

Everyone knew that the NHS was under pressure but to see the realities of long waiting queues and frustrated patients was different altogether. He bumped into a teenage girl who shot him a cold look, accelerated by the green specks of her eyes. He apologised and glanced around frantically, his breathing slowing down as he caught sight of Eric at the receptionist's desk, a despondent look on his face.

He looked so small in that instance, like a child who realised that it was never going to snow during Christmas in England ever again. The receptionist was telling him something, her eyes shimmering under the fluorescent lights. Eric was staring at her blankly, neither nodding or shaking his head-or anything. That look he had on his face when Dele had first seen him- _blank nothingness._

The receptionist got up and went towards the main ward, teetering in her high heels. It was just her job, at the end of the day. Eric stared down at the desk. Dele took a chance.

‘’Eric.’’ He tried carefully.

Eric’s head jerked in an expression of anger, his lips curling instinctively. ‘’What the _fuck_ are you doing here?’’ the tone surprised him. Eric was always composed and calm and confident. He was never like this- angry and scared looking. 

‘’Don’t get mad, I’m just-’’

‘’Leave.’’ Eric told him firmly, his blue eyes on fire.

‘’No.’’ Dele said, firmly. ‘’Why are you-’’

‘’It’s like you don’t know what _privacy_ is. First its your fucking gormless stares and now you’re _stalking_ me? Just _go home_ , Dele.’’

And the realisation that Eric had acknowledged his name was outweighed by the amount of stares they received. 

People were looking at them now, there is no feeling of surprise but rather interest. It was definitely not the first argument the crowd had witnessed; the hospital environment would drive anyone up the wall. But the sight of two contrasting teenagers arguing was enough to kill the boredom.

When put like that by Eric, Dele sounded awful. But he just wanted to _know._ ‘’I just want to-’’

‘’Just want to what?’’ Eric cut him off, his fist digging intensely against the desk. ‘’ _What?_ Go on.’’

‘’Don’t do this.’’ Dele says. _Don’t make a scene, don’t turn me away like this, don’t get so mad._ ‘’I’m trying to understand why you-I was only curious.’’

Eric snorts. ‘’And I’m trying to understand how a boy who’s got a _girlfriend_ keeps _eye fucking_ me. But you won’t see me following _you_ anytime soon.’’

Dele's jaw clenches. But before he can retort back, the receptionist returns with a middle aged woman by her side. She’s wheeled in, sat in a wheelchair, wearing a green hospital gown, her skin noticeably frail, a weary expression on her face and a blue hat on her head to match her equally blue eyes.

Eric turns to hug her immediately, abandoning their conversation although his body is still tight with tension. Dele watches the scene from a distance; an outsider. He realises belatedly that his fists are clenched as well. Eric fascinated him as much as anything but he also irritated him too. It dawns on him that it’s Eric’s mum- the mannerisms give it away, and upon second glance the eyes do too.

They hug for so long, with so much intimacy between them that Dele has to look away, heavily second guessing his decision to leave the relative safe haven of Kate’s living room. When he looks back at the scene, Eric’s mum is smiling at him, a dazed sort of one as if she is on some sort of meds. She’s very beautiful despite looking quite frail- she would have been a catch when she was younger, sort of like Ruby in that sense. 

Later, Eric lets Dele help his mum to a taxi, mature enough to put their fight to a side for a second. They don’t speak. Eric’s mum had smiled at him again, asking for his name. ‘’Is this your friend, Eric? He’s very helpful.’’ Her voice was soft and tender.

Dele had tried not to snort from his backseat by the window. Beside him, Eric gave him an unreadable look. He didn't respond to his mum and ran a hand through his blonde hair.

Dele wondered why she was at the hospital and what was wrong. She didn’t seem completely miserable, although that might have been a testament to her character rather than the severity of her condition- or any sort of meds that she was on.

The taxi took them to Eric’s house. It looked different when it wasn’t filled with hordes of beautiful people. Silent and empty.

‘’Thank you, sweetie.’’ Eric’s mum said to him, clasping his hand, before Eric wheeled her into one of the several rooms on the ground floor. She seemed so genuine and nice. So different when compared to Eric. She had birthed some sort of talented snob.

And so Dele couldn’t help feeling some sort of moral obligation towards her, still feeling the ghost of her touch on the back of his hand. He’d never had a mum himself and the closest thing he’d gotten was Stacey. But even then, even when Stacey tried there were elements of superficiality to their relationship, it felt measured and structured but not _real._

Maybe it was that sort of realness that Kyle had been searching for when he went looking for his parents. Because he wanted something _real._ Imagine if he’d had a real mum, someone who would take him to Parents Evening and back him when Mr Jenkins criticised his handwriting for being too messy and clasped his hand and called him by a pet name such as _sweetie._

‘’Cancer. Breast.’’ was Eric’s sharp voice suddenly from somewhere behind him. His posture remained perfectly upright like he was reciting the names of classical composers in the modern age, distancing himself from the topic, tone blunt and plain spoken. ‘’If you were wondering.’’ He adds.

‘’Oh.’’ Dele said. It felt like he was back at that moment when Kate had told him about her brother's death. How do you respond to that? He didn’t even bother with the words _sorry_ because it was utterly pointless. ‘’What’s her name?’’ He asked instead. 

‘’Diana.’’ Eric said stiffly, as if even talking to him was a needless waste of time. Dele nodded, she looked like a Diana. "Anything else you wanna ask me? I'm going to a cello concert tomorrow if you want to stalk me there too. ‘’ His eyes still had anger in them or maybe not anger- something that was almost interchangeable with it; _embarrassment_.

‘’I’m sorry.’’ Dele said with a sigh.

He meant it. This all felt wrong. Dele knew about privacy- _he_ was the _most_ private person he knew, but when it came to Eric Dier, privacy suddenly didn’t mean a thing. It was like he’d made it his own personal mission to break inside Dier’s museum- all his secrets and information. He was just so fucking intrigued. _Everything._ To be a privileged rich white kid and yet to always look half empty? It was those types of paradoxes that counted. They mattered. It kept Dele on the edge of his seat.

The sudden thought of John’s whereabouts flashed up in his head. If John was the only other person who knew about Eric’s mum. If that bonded them closer together, made them kiss each other harder, made Eric cling to his boyfriend more. He bit down his tongue about voicing his thoughts. _It wasn’t appropriate_. ‘’I’m sorry.’’ he said again, though it was more aimed at his own selfish thoughts. _That_ was more appropriate.

Eric’s reaction wasn’t- he sort of shrugged and played with the watch on his wrist, his jaw still stiff. He was embarrassed, Dele was convinced. Now Eric perceived himself to have a weakness. That his snarky comments would carry less weight now that Dele knew about his mum. Eric straightened up and walked towards the stairs. ‘’Thanks for helping my mum.’’ He said as he did so. Aka _you can fuck off now._

He then made his way up the L-shaped stairs and past the maid that Dele had remembered seeing during Eric’s party. Her brunette hair was wrapped up into a bun, her sharp eyes trained on Dele, chewing some gum silently. He felt instantly under scrutiny and wiped his hands against his sides.

‘’Hey.’’ he said, feeling rude not to.

‘’Hey.’’ she said, with a smile, her acrylic nails tapping against the banister as she made her way downstairs. ‘’You should come over more often. Diana doesn’t really warm to people like that. It’ll be good for her.’’ She says it so confidently like it's a forgone conclusion.

Dele made a face. ‘’I don’t think Eric would like that.’’

The maid shrugged, she looked like she was in her mid-twenties but was one of those people blessed with a baby face that made her seem so much younger, like a teenager.

‘’Oh, Eric’s a load of shit.’’ She said fondly. ‘’He just wants Diana to be happy. And if you’re making Diana happy, then well, he’ll like you- by force.’’ She nudges him playfully like they're friends already as she skips around him to open the front door. ‘’See you around.’


	7. Everything is Everything

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Messy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for all the support, its so motivating x

Vardy’s back.

There’s a big black suitcase plonked in the corridor when Dele gets back from Eric's house, a pair of military looking black boots that weren’t there this morning.

And sure enough, when Dele walks into the kitchen, Jamie is rummaging through the fridge, that _same_ haughty look on his face. He finds the packet of green grapes he was looking for and retreats towards the dining table, sparing a glance at Dele. He looked skinnier than when Dele had last seen him, handing out weed to adolescents, his hair spiked with grease. Dele would never admit it but there’s a small part of him that is pleased he’s come back.

Dele says nothing as he drifts past, heading up to his room and bumping into Ella who is still in her school uniform for some reason. She rolls her eyes at him. ‘’Watch it, Dele.’’ she pouts, picking up one of her Barbie dolls that had tumbled ungracefully to the floor.

‘’Watch your tongue, Ella.’’ Dele warns playfully. ‘’I might have to cut it off.’’

Ella squeals, her eyes a mixture of fear and excitement, caught halfway between _you wouldn’t really do that...would you?_ ‘’Stacey would never let you.’’ she says, although she doesn’t sound so sure.

‘’You happy that Jamie’s back?’’ he asks her, lowering his voice slightly. Sure, Ella was only six, but she was very opinionated for someone of her age. He wasn’t sure how well she even remembered Jamie-if at all. Maybe it was overwhelming for her to have some random nineteen year old deadbeat wander into your living room and munch on a handful of grapes.

Ella shrugged, playing with the blonde hair of the doll. She looked bored of their conversation already and so Dele let her go, watching her sprint off to her room, already muttering to herself.

It’s when, later on, he’s taking off his jeans that he notices it. A scrap piece of paper in his back pocket with a number scribbled wildly onto it:

_07457398278 , maria- the maid._

He frowned and then stared at it properly. The maid? _The same maid_ who had practically scrutinised him as he stood hesitantly in Eric’s daunting living room, chewing her gum like a bad habit. The only other girl to ever slip notes into his pockets was Ruby and look how _that_ had ended up.

Was it possible that Maria- _liked him_? Was it possible that when she had asked him over to visit Diana, it was only under the guise of seeing him again? He made a face and sat down on his bed, relishing the way the mattress sunk beneath him-it felt something like power.

He began to rip the note slowly, the tear slicing through the paper and nearing the number zero before he paused. It would give him a chance to see Eric more. The _other_ side of Eric. Not the one who looked straight past him but the one who felt slightly embarrassed and unsure, the way Dele felt most of the time.

He sat up slightly with a sense of direction, assurance. _He_ could play this game _too_ . He could pretend he was there to see Maria and then-even if Eric despised the sight of him, there would be no legitimate reason for Eric to kick Dele out, not if both Maria _and_ Diana liked him and then-and _then_ , what?

He knew Eric’s big secret now, the reason he left early every time, what more did he want? Why wasn’t he satisfied with that? He lay back on his bed feeling both frustrated and determined, a hybrid mix of fear and the unknown, an underlying sense of excitement and thrill.

Kyle barged in at that very minute, a moody look gracing his face. ‘’Since when was Vardy back?’’ He demands, kissing his teeth.

‘’Since he resorted to selling weed to half the kids at our school.’’ Dele replies instinctively, fingers still tracing the numbers of Maria’s note.

Kyle pauses. ‘’Wait, _that_ was him?’’

Dele sniggers. ‘’The one and only.’’

Kyle looks dumbfounded for a minute and then laughs along with Dele. _‘’Wow_.’’

‘’Care kids are the ones who are most fucked up.’’ Dele muses. He has no doubt about it. _He’s_ living proof.

‘’That may be so,’’ Kyle says, ‘’But apparently universities have got quotas for us now. Queen Mary here I come, baby.’’

‘’ _Queen Mary_? I thought your thing was football?’’

‘’It is.’’ Kyle shrugs, attempting halfheartedly now to arrange his school bag for the next day. ‘’But, I need a degree just in case... Mum and Dad say it's good to have a plan B.’’

The phrase makes Dele’s toes curl. ‘’ _Mum and Dad.’’_ he scorns.

‘’I don’t have time to play this game with you, Del.’’ Kyle sighs. ‘’Just be happy for me right now.’’

And Dele’s steely silence is his answer. 

++ 

His phone call with Maria is nice. She had a flirtatious tone to her voice, the same way Ruby’s had been before they’d become official. She invites him over on the Saturday at noon with a type of ease unknown to him. He wants to ask if Eric is aware of this, if he’s opposed to it, if he’s annoyed or even embarrassed again but he chickens out.

He gets up at around seven and showers for extra long, in love with the hot steaming water which usually evaded him. He’s at bliss for around twenty minutes before the next person is knocking on the door and asking him to get out. He obliges, expecting to face Stacey or Jamie or even Jesse but it’s _Meghan_ . And she looks - _different._ Her face is so open, hair tied back into a ponytail and her eyes are lit up, her lips drawn into a smile.

‘’ _Meghan.’’_ he splutters, droplets of water streaming down his neck.

‘’Do you want to catch flies or something?’’ she says softly with a laugh.

He hasn’t heard her speak in months and even then her words were limited to monosyllabic phrases. Even so, her eyes are _too bright_ and his first thought is _Jamie_.

‘’Was it Jamie?’’ he demands, ‘’What did he give you? Maybe it was a crap idea for him to come back-’’

‘’ _No.’’_ Meghan says firmly and Dele shuts up, suddenly more aware of how quiet the house is. No one woke up this early on a Saturday. ‘’It’s not him.’’ she continues. ‘’ _It’s me_. I’m wasting away my life in that fucking room upstairs. And life’s too short, so.’’ She shrugs. ‘’So I’m going to have fun today.’’

He couldn’t help but be skeptical;he was supposed to believe that magically somewhere along the line of her eighteen years Meghan had woken up and decided that _life was too short?_ There _must_ have been some sort of catalyst for her change but he decides not to question it because despite the strangeness, it was actually nice to see Meghan happy.

‘’Ok-uh-’’ he struggles to find the words. ‘’So where are you going? Stacey will be so-’’

‘’You can’t tell Stacey.’’ Meghan says quickly, placing a hand on his shoulder. It occurs to him that this is sort of weird- Dele’s only got his towel wrapped around his bottom half and Meghan was in her white bathrobe. And yet it didn’t feel like a sexual moment at all- not to him. ‘’I’m _serious,_ Dele. You know she won’t let me go anywhere. That’s why I had to wake up at this time. She won’t let me go anywhere or _do anything_. You understand, right?’’

And Meghan wasn’t wrong at all, Stacey watched Meghan like a hawk or an owl but she had good reason for doing so. Meghan squeezed his shoulder slightly, her eyes looking pleadingly into his.

He sighed. ‘’Fine-but. Don’t do anything stupid.’’

‘’ _Thank you_.’’ she said, smiling slightly.

Dele nodded and headed back towards his room, the coldness a sharp contrast to the heat inside the bathroom.

‘’And what about you, Dele?’’ Meghan asked from behind him, her tone curious now. ‘’Where are _you_ going?’’

‘’Just a friend's house.’’ He managed to say as calmly as he could.

He _wasn’t_ calm as he attempted to dress up. He was nervous to see Eric after that night. Surely, Eric couldn't go back to hating him now that Dele knew about his mum? That’s what he hoped so anyways. He settled on a plain white t-shirt and black jeans, covering himself with deodorant.

He stole a glance at Kyle who was snoring on the bed across the room, his mouth open and arms spread wide, a picture of pure damn bliss.

++

Even though he knew Maria had said to get there at noon, he ended up arriving at around ten a.m, slowing his pace as he got into the Westminster area, taking in the sweet breeze. Across the road, a couple were walking their dog and smiled over at him. Dele couldn’t find himself to smile back in time, completely caught off-guard. In East London, people didn't just _innocently_ smile at you. But he was quickly realising that a lot of things here weren't like East London.

The door opened after his first ring of the doorbell and Maria stood there in a vest and shorts, clearly having just woken up. Her brown hair tumbled past her shoulders. In truth, she was really pretty and attractive- the sort of girl Kyle would glance twice at despite the age difference.

She frowned at him playfully. ‘’What is this called-fashionably early?’’

He smirked and shrugged. ‘’Got nothing better to do.’’

She eventually ushered him in out of the cold and they chatted as he hung his coat on one of the pegs near the door. He quickly learnt that she was a pretty blunt person- calling him attractive within the first couple of minutes- and also that she had no idea he had a girlfriend, evidently shown by the way she referred to Ruby offhandedly as only _Eric’s friend_ when briefly discussing Eric’s birthday party. That meant that Dele was clearly pretty shit at showing affection but it _also_ meant that Eric hadn’t said Ruby was Dele’s girlfriend either.

‘’I’m going to go tidy myself up," she glanced down at herself as she said so. "I’m a _complete_ mess.’’ She laughed, touching his arm briefly as she ran up the stairs. When had he given off vibes that he was interested? Because the way she was acting, meant she clearly believed that he _was_. The only time he had looked at her was when watching Eric walk off.

He stood awkwardly for a second before glancing at the bookshelf in the side of the living room. There were a range of classics and moderns including _Noughts and Crosses_ by Malorie Blackman.

It was weird, because Dele remembered reading that book when he was nine- he’d snuck it out of the _mature_ section in the library and hadn’t understood anything past the fact that Sephy was black and at a top of the racially stratified society, whilst Callum was white and at the bottom. But he would have liked to read it again now-almost as an adult, because he’d understand everything in the dystopian novel that Blackman was trying to portray much more clearly.

He hears Eric behind him before he sees him, knowing the footsteps behind him couldn’t have been Maria’s- she couldn't have come back so soon. Dele, not knowing what to do with his hands, grabs Malorie Blackman’s novel tight, finding that the pages are practically yellow with wear, probably being read a numerous amount of times. ‘’Could I borrow this?’’ he finds himself asking, turning around to face Eric.

He wishes he hadn’t. It isn’t nice or fair-it doesn’t _work_ for Dele to convince himself that he was into girls when Eric looked so casually good for ten in the morning. He was wearing a light blue t-shirt that complemented his white skin and even bluer eyes and grey joggers that hugged his slim legs, his blonde hair ruffled like he’d tossed and turned all night in his sleep. Or, another voice suggested, because he’d likely had sex with John who may even have been upstairs. He stood up straighter with the possibility of John being around. _Fuck._ How could he not have thought of that?

Eric doesn’t look angry or mad, moreso reserved. That’s somehow worse. ‘’What are you doing here?’’ he asks vaguely, ignoring Dele’s question completely.

‘’Maria invited-’’

‘’I know." Eric waves away his answer. "But what are you _actually_ doing here? What do you want?’’

‘’To see how your mum’s getting on.’’ He replies, not sure how safe a topic that was in this instance.

Eric’s jaw twitches slightly and then he laughs cynically. ‘’Come to see the circus, have you? I bet you find it hilarious that the posh tosh’s mum is dying- not so invincible now are we, just mere mortals like the rest of _you lot_.’’

‘’ _No_ -’’ Dele says horrified. ‘’What sort of fucked up conclusion is that?’’

‘’You got anything better?’’ Eric asks, folding his arms.

 _I wanted to be closer to you._ But he knows that's a worse answer, a _much worse_ answer. So he keeps quiet.

‘’ _I thought so.’’_ Eric says, sounding sure, nodding to himself. He’s self-convinced that Dele is some sort of twisted _arsehole_ who revels in other people’s misery. ‘’Well, not everyone gets to keep their parents, Dele.’’ He continues, adopting a self-righteous tone, scolding Dele like he’s a little kid. He thinks he’s got the moral high ground now. But he’ll be the same as Dele soon. They both won’t have any parents. ‘’And I get that they don’t teach much at those state schools but- all I want is privacy with me and my mum. You don’t _understand_ what it’s like to face the prospect of not having any parent-’’

"That's not true." Dele says quietly. He's not sure if Eric hears him or not but he doesn't stop talking.

" _You_ didn't lose your Dad when you were a kid on Father's Day when everyone was out with their _families_ and then a decade later, watch your Mum fade right in front of you…" Eric cuts himself off, probably surprised at how fast he's speaking, at how all the words are tumbling out uncontrollably, like he had forgotten who he was talking to and was seeing Dele again for the first time, remembering that they aren't even friends. But Dele thinks that, even if they aren't friends, Eric isn't the first person to have no parents and he certainly wasn't going to be the last.

"Yeah, life sucks doesn't it." Dele says, glancing down at the book that he's still holding and placing it back on the shelf. Eric gives him a strange look. "But spare me the lecture, though. I've understood _that prospect_ my whole life. I'm in a _fucked up_ care home and I don't know who my parents are-don't even _want to_ but. ..your mum in those few hours was the closest mother figure I’ve ever had. I wanted to be closer to that feeling.’’ _and you._ ‘’So yeah, _that's_ why I'm here. Is that a good enough reason?’’

The calmness with which he speaks doesn't reflect the way in which his hands are shaking and his toes are curling into the sole of his shoes. He’s never told anyone that before. Ever. And the first person he told was Eric fucking Dier of all people.

Eric peers at him underneath his eyelashes. "You're in _care_? I wouldn't have been able to tell."

"What does _that_ mean?" Dele says, making a face. "Were you expecting some feral child?"

"Something like that." He says bluntly.

Dele is offended to be honest. As much as he hated the system himself, he felt the urge to defend not only himself but Ella, Kyle, Jesse and Meghan who weren't a bunch of fucked up animals for God's sake. "Well then change your expectations." He can't help but snap.

Eric raises one brow in surprise. Maria is behind Eric now; having ‘’tidied up’’, her hair in a slick bun, an apron on as she prepares for her job; he doesn’t know how much she heard but the grin on her face would suggest little to nothing.

‘’You guys alright?’’ she says, her tone bubbly.

Eric is staring at him, _really_ staring at him and despite it all- Dele feels goosebumps on his arms. He shakes the feeling and forces a smile onto his face as he stares at Maria. ‘’All good.’’ Dele says.

‘’I was gonna whip up some breakfast.’’ she says, gesturing with her head for Dele to follow and he does without questioning, grateful to get away from Eric’s gaze.

In some ways this meant that they were even. Dele knew Eric’s secret and Eric knew Dele’s. _Someone knew Dele’s secret._ There was a part of him that felt slightly lifted- a burden less heavy to carry.

Maria grills some sausages with toast and they watch a couple of Netflix shows until noon. Later, Diana wakes up and looks pleased to see him, the skin underneath her eyelids darker than they were last time. She rambles on about her favourite season of the X Factor which was 2008 with Alexandra Burke winning and Dele tells her that he’s never seen it. She’s appalled and playfully labels him as a feral child who’s escaped from the woods, the label hurts more than it should in the light of him and Eric's chat earlier.

In 2008 he had been starting year one in primary, his foster mum at the time had gotten him his first proper school shoes and polished them shiny black the day before. _Of course_ he doesn’t remember anything about the bloody X-Factor. Somewhere along the line of constantly moving, it just wasn’t a priority.

Diana doesn’t talk about death. It's not in her vocabulary. She’s light as a feather, on cloud nine. But the reality is that her head is wrapped with a scarf and she doesn’t bother to wheel herself to the kitchen, she requests that the blinds be down because daylight is painful, takes her lunch from Maria in her room on the ground floor. Even so, Dele doesn’t mention it and smiles along with her at her jokes. Yes he’s a miserable cunt but even he wasn’t going to ruin the mood here. She was good at pretending, at ignoring things that she didn’t like. He saw where Eric got it from.

Eric comes down again at dinner, he looks surprised to see that Dele _is still here_ and Dele himself is surprised that he's stayed this long but no one had asked him to leave yet and he wasn't going to turn down a free meal.

Maria dished spaghetti bolognese perfectly onto his plate, no one bit out of place. On the dining table there were the additional options of sour cream, pepper or added vegetables.

Maria went off to give Diana her dinner and it was five minutes later that Dele realised she wasn't returning because Diana ate in her room and from what he gathered Maria was _the help_ and the help couldn't _possibly_ dine at the same table with Eric fucking Dier. So it was just them two in Eric's huge dining room. The marble table was expensive looking, the silver cutlery had words carved into it. Dele's fork said _Vogue._

He glanced up at Eric who was slurping up a long piece of spaghetti, his mouth forming an _o_ shape suggestively. Dele stared at him. Was he doing that on purpose?

Eric caught his gaze. "Do you like it?" He asked, swallowing his food.

"What?" Dele said dumbly.

Eric snorted and Dele flushed. They both knew what each other had been thinking.

" _The food."_ Eric emphasised, this time. "Do you like it?"

"Oh. Yeah." Dele said hurriedly. "It's nice."

Eric nodded. Dele stared at the fork again.

"You know, I don't get what my mum sees in you." Eric said after a while, leaning back in his seat and giving Dele a onceover. "She couldn't stop _going on_ about you when you left the other day." He looked slightly miffed as he said so. It was weird because he'd just been laughing a minute ago - although admittedly he'd been laughing _at_ Dele and not with him.

"For real?" Dele said, pleasantly surprised. "I really like your mum."

"Yeah but I mean.." Eric shrugs one shoulder. "There's nothing _special_ about you..you can't play an instrument, you go to a state school, and you've worn _that_ shirt three times."

Dele wants to retort that Eric had sadly been keeping count but it felt weird to start an argument with _his gracious host_ whilst eating in his house so he diverted. "Don't you get tired of insulting me?" Dele said instead, placing down his cutlery.

Eric took a sip from the _third edition of Couleurs du Sud Chardonnay_ (kindly translated by Maria as simply _white wine_ ) "Its _constructive_ _criticism_." He corrects. "That's what John calls it."

"Right." Dele says, of course he had to bring up that idiot.

Eric disappeared to his room at some point and Dele drifted around the house, like a ghost still dragging his feet to leave.

There was something about being here in Westminster that made him feel lighter. Eric, Maria, Diana, Kate and Harry didn't know him the way Kyle or Jesse and the other kids at his school did. They didn't know that Dele was this loner kid at school or that it was compulsory for every black and brown boy to listen to rap and drill, there wasn't this _mould_ that he had to fit into.

For crying out loud, Eric's house was littered with fucking _Beethoven,_ and he had pink blinds in one of his rooms but he wasn't _a faggot_ and a compliment in this world was being called _beautiful_ rather than _peng_ and Eric had openly admitted in a text that he sucked John's dick and only last week Kate was planning on going to a pride festival in June, when exams were over.

Maybe that's why he kept on coming back here, because it was some sort of haven to him. 

++

"Won't your parents be worried?" Diana had asked, much later on as the sky had faded to an inky black outside. _Parents_ , Dele sniggered.

"Probably." It wasn't like he had told Stacey where he was going either. With him _and_ Meghan gone, there was a chance she'd start pulling her hair out. He felt slightly bad. "Definitely worried." He amended. It wasn't even that late, like 8PM but she hadn't seen him all day.

"I'll phone a cab." She suggested casually.

"No." Dele said, wilting of embarrassment. "The train is fine."

"Don't be ridiculous, it's no biggie. _I_ insist."

A cab from here to where he lived would be close to seventy pounds. The figure alone was making him sweat. He didn't want to be some fucking charity case, he didn't even like asking for money or help of any form to be perfectly honest. "I appreciate it, _really_." Dele says. "But I'll be good on the tube, thanks."

"Alright." She said,smiling at him. "Could you at least go tell Eric that I want to have a look at his report card? He keeps forgetting to give it to me."

Dele gritted his teeth, smiling on the outside. Eric was probably sick of the sight of him. Dele left her room and went towards the staircase. He felt like a messenger for a second- like _the help._ If he worked here he'd probably go insane by the simultaneous desire to both strangle and kiss Eric at once.

It's as he's nearing the landing that he hears the violin playing, its soft sound drifting to him from Eric’s room. He hasn’t been in this corridor since that night at Eric’s party when he’d stumbled across John and Eric kissing; that’s when Dele knew he didn’t even know how to kiss Ruby properly-not like that. Dele walks towards Eric’s room stopping in the doorway.

It was something classical and it wasn’t necessarily his style because Dele had always found the imperfection and rawness of rap and drill more fascinating. But this was definitely different, in a good way. It was _calming_. He’d seen the pictures of Eric playing at his school, but in real life he was able to see how deftly Eric’s fingers moved with the bow across the strings, how tightly his eyes were shut as he did so.

There was a half empty bottle of Chardonnay on his drawer and Dele wouldn't be surprised if he'd been drinking. Eric acted like he was constantly in a mid-life crisis rather than a privileged eighteen year old. The amount of times Dele had seen Eric drinking or with a spliff between his fingers was unbearable. If he wasn't rude, then he was high or drunk or all three at once.

"Hey." Dele says then, raising an eyebrow as Eric’s perfect melody comes to an ugly shriek in surprise, his fingers slipping from their tight grip on the bow. ‘’Sorry.’’ he adds, belatedly.

Eric stared at him. "Look who followed me again." There was a hint of humour to his words. "Like what you heard?" He asks expectantly, probably expecting Dele to gush about his musical talent.

So Dele made a show of shrugging. "Yeah it was alright, I guess."

Eric's jaw twitched. Dele knew the one thing the blondie couldn't stand was when people didn't trip over themselves in bowing before him. He was so caught up in the idea that every single thing he did had to be measured and perfect.

" _Just_ alright?" He questioned.

"Yeah, that's about as good as it gets when you're following from a script." He gestured towards the stacks of white paper on the stand dotted with black lines and shapes.

‘’Because I need to know what I’m playing.’’

"I just think you could be a bit more spontaneous.'’ Dele teases, playing on Eric’s musical ego.

A look of profound determination flicks across his face and he quietly turns the stand away from him. ‘’Okay.’’ is all he says. He stands taller and closes his eyes and then his bow touches the strings.

Dele can tell its random and spontaneous by the look of uneasiness on Eric’s face, his teeth biting down nervously on his lip. He’s afraid of it not being perfect which Dele thinks is stupid. This was more frenzied and wild, the awkward clash between the g and f notes and whatever other letters existed in the violin world. This was better than the last.

Dele walks into the room whilst Eric is playing, remembering the red mural placed above the bed on the wall. It looks even creepier than the last time. There’s a couple of devils in the foreground and a child who looks like an angel is being swallowed up. It’s such an odd thing to have staring down at you every night. How the hell did Eric even sleep?

The room was wide and had a couple more A-Level books placed on a desk nearby. On the wall, behind the door, were pictures of Eric’s mum when she was healthier and younger - beautifully grasping onto a blonde haired man who had a cigarette poised in one finger and a small blue velvet box in the other. Was that Eric’s father? There were many variations of the couple together in different scenes and places ranging from Venice to Milan to New York.

The only other person in any pictures was John and there was a single one; John wasn’t looking at the camera, was caught off guard staring into space- and that was pinned to the wall too. Eric was evidently as obsessed with John as Dele was increasingly obsessed with Eric.

He turned to Eric who was still playing frantically but his eyes weren’t closed anymore and he was watching Dele, tracking the way the latter walked around his room, scrutinizing every detail. Eric stopped playing abruptly and they stood in a silence that overwhelmed Dele. _That was incredible._ But he doesn't say that.

"That was better than before." He says, instead.

‘’I’ve never played so _badly_.’’ Eric said, laughing at himself- it was probably an attempt to be scornful, to undermine Dele’s knowledge of what constituted as good but it was a weak attempt.

"That was amazing, really. " Dele admits. "I always thought violins were quite boring to be honest but.."

"But what?" Eric says, pushing him for an answer like they're on some sort of fucked up game show. Maybe _t_ _his was_ the game. Cat and mouse, Hide and Seek, Dele and Eric. It was universally known that _all_ the best games came in twos.

The thing with Eric was that he had two advantages going for him; he knew he was good looking, and he also probably knew that Dele was labouring some sort of crush on him, that's why he took it so far, pushed the boundaries, insulted him at ease or ignored him at will, he knew Dele would be right back ready for the next game. But there was a new level being introduced right here, right then in front of Dele. He could tell from the glint in Eric's eyes.

Eric lowered his black violin to his side and tilted his head. "But what?" He repeated again, taking a step forward.

Dele took a step back. "You make it more interesting, I guess." Dele replied lamely.

Eric took another step forward and Dele stood dead still.

Eric's eyes flicked behind him for the briefest of moments. Then Dele became aware that, for whatever reason, Eric was going to kiss him. Either as an expression of dislike or manipulation because he knew Dele was in the midst of a sexuality crisis, to balance their power dynamics or maybe just because Dele was _there_ and John wasn’t- either way Eric leaned forward and their lips were touching.

Dele couldn’t breathe and sucked in his breath sharply as Eric opened his mouth a bit and then Dele was doing the same; imitating Eric’s actions blindly. A boy was kissing him. _Eric was kissing him._ Eric was leading the kiss, his nose nudging against Dele’s subtly telling him to change the angle. Dele changed the angle and Eric's violin brushed against his thigh. Fucking hell. He couldn’t breathe, his head was being pushed underwater and his lungs were being filled with want from the warmth of Eric's tongue but it was a suffocating type. _The_ suffocating type. He was scared. The irony of him telling Eric to do something spontaneous and then backing away when Eric did-like a coward.

He pulled away first because he was suddenly overcome by an initial feeling of shame- ingrained into his soul telling him that this is _so wrong_ but then the second wave of feelings hits, the feeling of seeing Kyle in his towel times a million, stomach twisting with the unexpected feeling of want. His cheeks felt hot.

He looked up, wondering what Eric was thinking but the blonde wasn't paying any attention to him, eyes staring behind Dele carefully to where John Stones was by the door.

The brunette knocked sarcastically, eyeing Dele. Dele couldn't tell if he had seen the kiss or not because he looked just as cocky and arrogant as ever in all black and a Gucci scarf coiled around his neck like a snake. "Nice of you to let in the homeless." John remarks boldly with a smirk.

"You're late." Eric says coolly, as if he hadn't just completely fucked Dele up with his stupid pink lips.

"I know, I'm sorry." He strides into the room, one arm sliding around Eric's waist. "Christian _insisted_ on the seared scallops at the Empire Longue."

Dele made a face- _what the hell was he talking about?_ He had a huge feeling of imposter syndrome.

"Why did you go to dinner with Eriksen?" Eric asks, crossing his arms and then after a carefully blank look crossing his face.

Dele needs to deliver Diana's message or he's at _serious_ risk of being ignored completely because they were both preoccupied with each other. And Eric hadn't even _looked_ at him. it was almost like he'd imagined the whole thing. He clears his throat and they both pause to spare him a glance. _De ja vu_ much.

"Eric, your mum wants to see your report card."

"Right." Eric said, flashing a tiny smile in his direction. "Thanks."

Dele searched his face but Eric was carefully poised as ever. _Is that it? You kiss me and then that's it?_ Did Eric practice his facial expressions in the mirror, did his boyfriend give him acting lessons? How could he look so calm? Wasn't he even concerned that John would find it weird that Dele was even here? Eric's blue eyes stared at him innocently.

Dele recoiled and left promptly, bidding goodbye to Diana and then Maria who winked at him on his way out. There was really only one phrase to sum all of that up: _what the fuck was that?_

++ 

Jesse and Kyle leap up as Dele enters the house, his head still spinning, his earphones in playing Dave. They both look at him, shouting but Dele can’t hear them so he unplugs his earphones and is surprised by how vocal they are.

‘’ _Dele_ have you seen Meghan?’’ Jesse practically yells, slamming Dele back into reality. Her name almost makes his heart stop.

‘’What?’’ he says, even though he had heard them already.

‘’Stacey walked down to the police station some hours ago.’’ Kyle explains quickly. ‘’No one’s seen her since yesterday.’’

‘’Sounds familiar doesn’t it?’’ Dele says dryly, resorting to sarcasm to stop himself from shitting his pants.

‘’This is different.’’ Kyle says seriously. ‘’This is _Meghan_ we’re talking about.’’

 _I’m going to have fun today_ , she had said this morning. Dele bit down hard on his lip. What had she meant by it? Why didn’t he question her? Why did he listen to her?

‘’Do you fucking know where she is or not?’’ Jesse demands.

Dele can’t answer, turning away to put on one of the lights, his heart hammering. If anything happened to her-it was on him. If she - he couldn’t even think properly. His behaviour dawns on the two of them slowly but surely.

‘’Of course he does.’’ Kyle whispers. ‘’Why else would he be acting like that?’’

‘’I don’t know where she is.’’ Dele insists. ‘’But-’’

‘’This isn’t the time for games.’’ Jesse says seriously, he’s never _seen_ Jesse so serious.

‘’I saw her this morning at around seven. She looked happy. She said she was going to have - _fun_.’’

Now, as he says to out loud, he realises how stupid he was. Meghan was depressed, had been for years. Her change of heart didn’t make any fucking sense.

‘’And you let her go?’’ Kyle asks quietly.

This is worse. He wants them to scream at him, but their voices are getting quieter and quieter. ‘’She told me not to tell Stacey..’’ he says pathetically.

‘’And you listened?’’ Jesse adds. Its like he's under interrogation all at once and its overwhelming. 

Dele shakes his head. ‘’I can’t do this right now.’’ he says, feeling sick for many many reasons. ‘’I can’t do this.’’ he says, standing and bolting up the stairs, balancing the guilt and fear he felt from allowing Meghan to leave on her own this morning to the fear and gratification he felt from kissing Eric. He doesn’t even make it to the sink before he throws up just in front of the bathroom door, Maria’s well prepared dinner going completely to waste.

This morning everything had been relatively fine and now-and now they evidently were not.


	8. I Used to Love Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> emotions. lots of emotions. 
> 
> Eric pov.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey guys, i know its been a while. I've just been taking the time to really perfect as much as I can the rest of this fic so it makes sense cohesively altogether because - sob- its a lot. 
> 
> i can only really promise to update at least once a week but i won't take as long as i did for this chapter lol. Its extra long so hopefully you can forgive me? 
> 
> Thanks for all the support as always x
> 
> quick warning: gaslighting and references to attempted suicide :(

Weeks go by. The weather fluctuates from a constant chill, misty breaths and scarves to those odd days of heat, sunglasses out and ice creams in hand.

Weeks go by and Dele doesn’t show up.

Eric goes to school as usual with his violin case in his arms-the most precious thing in the world-practices until his fingers bleed, ignores the pain that is Christian Eriksen and returns home only for his mother to look disappointed and ask, ‘’Is Dele with you?’’

 _I’m right here,_ he thinks. He was her son for God's sake, yet she was more concerned about _Dele_ \- the boy she hadn’t known for longer than two months. ‘’No.’’ he had replied, perhaps more forcefully than intended.

His mum was making a rare appearance in the living room, slouched in the wheelchair as she blindly watched whatever was on screen. The doctor had been over yesterday, ‘’ _for protocol reasons_ ’’ only to deliver the same shitty verdict that they already damn well knew. _Terminal._ He shrugged off his light blue coat and then leaned his forehead against the wall, trying to organise his thoughts.

Today had been a good day. The governess had said he’d finally perfected Shostakovich, Kate had turned nineteen and they’d gone out during lunch at Costa to celebrate and John had been lovely to him all day. _By chance_ , Harry Winks had decided to give up the role of _Macduff_ \- announcing it in form class with a heavy heart and a timid stance. Which basically meantthat John had bullied him into doing so. Eric felt partially bad but maybe the ends could justify the means. If John being happy meant he would show affection towards him then Eric didn’t care what it took.

It was why he had kissed Dele all those weeks ago. John had been lingering in the doorway, watching them and so Eric had tried to take control, he wanted John to get jealous, angry, annoyed, anything that showed he _cared_. But after Dele had left, John had just laughed at him. ‘’What’d you do that for?’’ was all he had said, grinning sharply, like Eric was crazy. ‘’Think he enjoyed it?’’ he’d pondered whilst pulling Eric into a half arsed hug, smelling faintly of alcohol and cologne.

Eric had pushed him away but John had tightened his grip ever so slightly. ‘’John..why were you with Eriksen?’’ he asked quietly.

‘’Just a lads chat.’’ John had said easily, his face neutral.

‘’You’ve always been good at lying.’’ Eric had said, staring at him cooly. He didn’t believe a word of it, to be perfectly honest.

‘’That’s true.’’ John had admitted, revelling in the backhanded compliment. And that had been that.

Now though, he watched his hopeless mother look towards him sceptically.

‘’Mum, I don’t know where he is- we’re not even friends.’’ _At all._ ‘’And if I’m being honest, we shouldn’t expect much from him anyways.’’

Diana sighed and looked away. ‘You know, ’It’s nice talking to someone new.’’

Eric scoffed. ‘’Oh sorry, I didn’t realise I was boring you.’’

‘’You don’t bore me Eric- ‘’ she insisted, ‘’You just pity me instead. And that’s worse, really.’’

Eric stared at her, silently hurt. He was well versed in many things, could dabble in languages across the spectrum and do well in exams- music, literature, history. But there was no handbook that came on how to behave when your mother was dying. She was like a doll and he thought treading around her would be best. But it wasn’t, according to her. So what else was he supposed to do?

‘’I’m not sad-not really.’’ She added, perhaps mistaking his silence for something else. ‘’I’ll see your father soon.’’

Eric blinked at her, biting his lip out of habit, down until he felt a trace of blood. How could she say that? ‘’And what about me? What sort of _family_ is this? Do I have to fucking die as well then?’’ he questioned, voice breaking slightly.

It was a fleeting thought, as quick as a flash-if he slashed his wrist, he’d join them somewhere in heaven. Maybe even hell. Eric wasn’t that great of a person and his father hadn’t really been either. But just as quickly as it comes it goes. He’s got goals to achieve, he’s got to get to Oxford, mingle, network and probably make friends with the next prime minister of the United Kingdom, he has to play in front of the Queen, maybe perform with the BBC’s symphony orchestra. He’s got too much to fucking do.

On the other hand, Diana seems like she can’t fucking wait to go.

His thoughts eat him up most of the time, creep up on him like a predator and when he had tried to talk to John the latter had said he didn’t like talking about things that were too morbid; ‘’You’re giving me a _headache,_ Eric.’’ he’d complained last time Eric had brought up his mum before kissing him to shut him up.

‘’You'll be okay, Eric.’’ Diana says, her voice breaking through the fog. ‘’You’re stronger than you think you are.’’ She adds, although her eyes are flitting around the room, searching for something. ‘’Have you seen my packet of cigs?’’ She asks him vaguely.

His instant reaction is one of concern but she gives him a look, a sort of smug feeling of validation- that her words were right, that Eric pities her too much. She wins. ‘’I’ll go get them.’’ he says, striding out of the room.

Diana had once left her packet of cigarettes - the Marlboro gold king size ones- on the table when he was thirteen and he had tried it and it was good. The next day he had gone back for more and it was very good. Since then, it had become second nature to him. Maybe that was one of the only things they had in common; both in love with a cancer stick.

‘’Better not to delay the inevitable!’’ she calls after him, laughing at herself.

Eric doesn’t have too many memories of his dad, but he does know that they were closer. He was more of a daddy’s boy and Diana knew it too. Sometimes it felt like all that bound them together was their blood, this house and the shadow of his father; a relationship of convenience.

But Eric couldn’t be alone in this world, in this house. It was too fucking big. When he was younger, he had enjoyed running in and out of every single room, treating it like his own personal playroom, having playdates with everyone in his primary school class- notably Kate at the time with her obsession with blue boots and Lego- but now the walls were too big and empty and cold. And lonely, definitely lonely. 

++

Dele arrives at the end of the week as the calendar switches to late December.

Christmas had gone past without anything memorable, just that it would be Diana’s last one. Maria had tried to lift their spirits by getting a huge white Christmas tree but her efforts were in vain. The tree is still there, though, in the corner of the living room, wilted and pathetic. Dele's eyes flick to it first of all when Eric opens the door, his brown eyes analysing the fairly lights hanging limply, the gold star all the way at the top.

Eric watches him instead. His black coat almost blends in with the dark evening sky behind him. It's late and Eric wasn’t expecting him so he’s in his black fleece dressing gown. There’s an instant feeling of begrudging relief ; that Diana would stop asking about him now he was here, that Eric didn’t have to carry the burden of his dying mother on his own. But it was quickly replaced by resentment that his mum had become so dependent on some _state school_ kid from East London who happened to be seeing Ruby. And then resentment that his mum preferred Dele’s company to his own.

‘’Hey.’’ Dele said, looking aloof. His curls had grown slightly and he seemed colder somehow. Not just physically, because he was slightly shivering. But he wasn’t giving Eric that doe-eyed stare he usually did, his eyes ran over Eric quickly giving him a onceover. He looked sort of tired. ‘’Are you gonna let me in or what?’’ he asked after a while.

Eric stepped back and Dele climbed over the threshold, his black boots apparant against the brown furred carpet beneath. He shrugged off his coat quietly, the cold from outside was radiating off of him and even Eric began to shake with it.

‘’How is she, then?’’ He said, hanging his coat up the way he usually did. But none of this shit was usual. He’d just dissappeared off the face of the earth for ages and flaunted back expecting-expecting that, what, Diana would be okay with that?

‘’Well, it’s not like you’d know.’’ Eric remarked, wrapping his arms around himself. ‘’And take off your shoes.’’ he added, his mild ocd kicking in.

Dele toed off his boots, a frown on his face. ‘’What’s that supposed to mean?’’

‘’Well think about it.’ Eric said sarcastically. ‘’You haven’t turned up in weeks. You could have called Maria to talk to her but you didn’t. So it’s not like you’d know how she’s doing, you know? It's not like you tried to find out.’’

‘’I know its hard to believe,’’ Dele says, gritting his teeth slightly. ‘’But I’ve got a lot of shit going on and things have been hectic and-’’ he catches himself, looking at Eric. ‘’I won’t disappear again.’’ he confirms.

‘’Don’t give my mum false hope and then fuck off without a care.’’ Eric continues, still not ready to drop it. There’s a small part of him that enjoys Dele’s company here- it's nice to have someone his age. Because no one else really comes over.

‘’Eric.’’ Dele says firmly, his eyes focused. ‘’I won’t fucking dissapper again.’’

And Eric startles at the intensity of his gaze, biting his lip and looking away. He briefly wondered if the hecticness in Dele’s life had anything to do with the fact that he was in care. It wasn’t like his world revolved around Diana.

‘’Is John here?’’ Dele asked then, tone carefully poised as he did so, just on the edge of curiosity.

‘’No.’’ Eric replied, stiffening at the mention of his name. ‘’Do you want him to be?’’ he added sarcastically, aware that Dele probably hated his guts.

‘’No.’’ Dele said seriously, shaking his head.

Their conversations always felt like this. Tense. Always tense. Because Eric could tell that Dele was thinking about the kiss. There was a look in his eye as he stared at the white christmas tree again like it was the most fascinating thing in the world.

Eric cleared his throat. ‘’If you want to talk about it, we could. But I just want you to know that I only kissed you because of John. Because I saw him watching. Because I wanted him to be jealous.’’ he’s surprised with how blunt it comes across and Dele looks sort of surprised too and then his face settles into something blank.

‘’Am I part of your new game then?’’ he says with a dry laugh. ‘’One of the pawns you’re using in the game of chess with your boyfriend?’’

‘’Do you want to be?’’ Eric asks him, half joking, half wanting to be mean. Just because it's Dele. Only because its Dele.

'’Fuck you, Eric.’’ Dele says with an air of finality. He lets the words sink in before walking towards Diana’s room and Eric waits for Diana’s delighted yelp before he allows himself to crack.

It was easier to pretend like he hadn’t quietly enjoyed the kiss and it had made sense in his head to be standoffish about it. But he was distancing the only person brave enough to spend more than five hours with him in a room without going crazy- Dele was his last grasp of sanity before he was left in the darkness with his fags and champagne. Why was he so hell bent on destroying whatever relationship existed between them?

He gets high later anyways. Maria smuggles the weed into his room, not even bothering to hide her look of disapproval.

‘’Soon it’ll be just me and you, Maria.’’ he says darkly as he shoves the joint to his lips.

‘’Neither of us want that.’’ Maria responds, hands behind her back. ‘’I suggest you convince Dele that your nice enough to hang out with even after..’’ she trails off.

After Diana dies and the cancer kills her, Eric finishes bitterly in his head.

‘’Do you think he’s infatuated with me?’’ he asks randomly from his position on the bed.

‘’I think you know the answer to that.’’ Maria says with a roll of her eyes. ‘’Seeing as your so infatuated with John, you should know what it looks like to be _infatuated_.’’

‘’I think he’s cheating on me, though.’’ He says quietly, soft. It's embarrassing to say out loud, really.

‘’There’s something about that boy that puts me off.’’ she comments, shaking her head.

‘’His ambition?’’ he guesses.

‘’His arrogance.’’ she corrects.

Later when Dele is leaving, Eric stops him, grabs him carefully by the wrists, his head spinning. Dele looks at him from underneath his webbed eyelashes- almost like he’d been crying, the sight of Diana too much. Eric blinks surprised and then speaks anyway.

‘’Why do you always look at me?’’ He asks even though he knows why. But he’s in desperate need of compliments and praise that he doesn’t and never received from john, frankly his ego is running low on battery.

Dele glances down at Eric’s hand on his wrist and then back up at Eric. He wonders how he’s coming across to Dele right now: desperate perhaps, vain maybe, mostly desperate. ‘’Want me to be honest?’’ Dele asks.

Eric nods, bracing myself.

‘’You’re nice to look at.’’ he said, almost shyly. ‘’You're just..you already know that, though. You don’t need me to tell you.’’

‘’It's nice to be reminded.’’ Eric says and it sounds super fucking vain so Dele rolls his eyes. ‘’Ever gotten high before, Dele?’’ he asks forwardly.

‘’Sounds dangerous.’’ he says hesitantly.

‘’It’s fun.’’ Eric says alternatively. ‘’You mentioned you’d been going through some shit earlier-it’ll help you forget stuff. It’s like floating. You ever floated before?’’

‘’You’re insane.’’ Dele says with a wry smile.

‘’Rather be insane than depressed.’’

‘’It’s possible to be both.’’ Dele suggests, staring at him now.

Eric grips his wrist again. ‘’You have to look after me now, since I’m so insane. And also, depressed.’’

‘’Plausible deniability.’’ Dele says, although he’s not resisting so much anymore. He searches Eric’s face. ‘’Is this what you do all day then?’’

‘’Pretty much.’’ Eric confirms. ‘’Just join me. Just this once. You can forget the world, Dele. How often can you do that?’’

‘’Let me get this straight. The violin fucking genuis who's destined for greatness wants me to get shit faced?’'

‘’You can watch _me_ get shit faced- ‘s not like you haven’t done that before. I just don’t wanna be on my own, that’s all.’’

Dele’s mouth twitches but then he gives in. ‘’Okay.’’

He knows he’s exploiting Dele slightly, taking advantage of Dele’s lust towards him- because that was surely all it was. Dele was just sexually attracted to him, maybe Eric was part of some teenage fantasy that Dele had conjured up. The rich kid in need of saving. Even though Eric knew he was taking advantage, it was only bad if Dele said no. And Dele hadn’t said no. So maybe there was a part of Dele that wanted to be taken advantage of.

‘’Okay.’’ Eric says, dizzily. 

++

At some point they begin kissing again. He doesn’t remember who initiates it, though it's probably him, because the best time to kiss Dele is whilst he’s high so he can pretend that it doesn't actually matter, because he’s not exactly thinking straight.

Dele is on the bed underneath him, a faraway look in his eye as he stares up at Eric, like he’s not really here. Eric feels the same. Like his spirit is floating above and watching human Eric do something stupid. Something really stupid. Dele had allowed himself to be corrupted for a second, taking the spliff the tenth time Eric had offered and then coughing like crazy, his eyes watering which had made Eric laugh.

‘’What else haven’t you done?’’ he asks curiously, suddenly fascinated.

‘’I’ve never smoked cigs before either.’’ Dele responded, his eyes darkening perhaps as he realised the significance of Eric’s body leaning over his. Bodies close but not touching.

‘’Are you a nun, Dele?’’ Eric said with a snigger.

Dele hummed then hesitantly pulled Eric down by his neck so their lips could meet again. ‘’M not thinking straight.’’ Dele mumbled against his lips. So he was playing the card of plausible deniability.

‘’Well, neither am I.’’’ Eric murmured back.

It was nice, despite it all. He compared Dele’s lips to John’s which were less experienced but more full and plump, more willing to please and less arrogant, the little things like Dele’s hand on his cheek.

Eric sat up to take off his shirt but Dele paused, despite his hazy state of mind. ‘’What are you doing?’’ he asked.

Eric was confused as to how he could still sound so serious and careful despite it all. ‘’Isn’t this what you want?’’ Eric says. ‘’ _To quench your lust, fulfil your fantasy.’’_ he added slowly, tone innocently seductive.

‘’Shut up.’’ Dele said, rolling out from underneath him to the edge of the bed, the red mural stood out as a red blur in the darkened room. It was so dark outside.

‘’What did I do wrong?’’ Eric says, pulling back down his shirt. He sat on the bed now, his legs crossed beneath him, his lips red.

Dele didn’t respond. He looked shaken, like he was remembering something. Deliberately avoiding Eric’s gaze. They sat in silence as the world around Eric settled. The realities began to set in of the microwave pinging somewhere in the background, the sound of c-grade actors coming from the television and Dele’s steady breathing.

‘’A girl from my care home attempted suicide.’’ Dele says suddenly. ‘’Her name was- _is_ Meghan.’’

Eric shifts closer towards him. ‘’ _Wha_ _t?_ Why?’’ his eyebrows knit together tightly.

‘’Because of me.’’ Dele says, looking down at his palms as if there’s blood on them. ‘’I let her go.’’

Eric frowned. ‘’What are you talking about? There’s no way it's your fault-’’

‘’They - the local authorities-took away Ella who’s six- they left the rest of us. And I’m pretty sure that Stacey, my foster mum, hates me. She fucking hates me. I can tell.‘’

‘’Dele...’’ Eric says, instinctively hugging him. It surprises both of them. Dele side glances at him and Eric stares back, unabashed.

He’s heard things about care homes, loads of shitty things and rumours that were perhaps exaggerated versions of the truth or not quite candid enough. Either way, the product of those realities is the boy right in front of him. He has so many questions and he doesn’t even know where to start.

‘’It's not your fault.’’ he says first of all. He has to try to get rid of that guilty look on Dele’s face. ‘’It's _not.’’_ he insists _._

He doesn’t know how many times he repeats it but he knows by the end that he’s fully sober and this is all real, all of these shitty experiences Dele has faced are real and not even a fucking joint can help him to forget that. _It's not your fault._

++

On the weekend, Kate holds a proper nineteenth birthday party, clearly not satisfied enough with their visit to Costa during the school week. ‘’They don’t sell any booze there!’’ she’d explained with a grin when Eric had asked why.

Kate loved to drink, she loved happiness, loved Harry , her friends and _life_. He’d known her for as long as he could remember. They had been best friends in primary school and everyone had nicknamed them ‘’Barbie and Ken’’ because of their shared blonde hair and blue eyes. Kate had preferred mostly to chill with the guys, hated the pettiness and gossip that seemed to go hand in hand with female friendships.

She’d hated a lot of things at the time. Eric had remembered being in year five and clueless to the world around him whilst Kate in year six had complained about the injustices of racism and sexism in various pieces of homework submitted to their teachers. Eric didn’t really get it at the time, his own privilege obscuring his vision, he hadn’t understood what there was for people to be angry about- _it wasn’t like slavery existed anymore_ . His ignorance at the time had indirectly pushed Kate towards Harry, who was equally as passionate about social injustice in the world- he wanted to be a politician- _a good one_ and Kate had warmed to him immediately. And so just like that Eric had lost his best friend to Harry.

Sometimes he would question them both sceptically. Was it possible to be opposed to privilege and yet still live a privileged life?

‘’Give up St Andrews, then.’’ he’d said to them both, one time. ‘’Move out of the area.’’

‘’Its called working _inside the system.’’_ Harry had emphasised, slightly hurt. ‘’You use your privilege to get to the top and then you have the power to destroy the system itself- all the institutionalised barriers preventing so many people from fulfilling their true potential.’’ he could write an essay with his spoken words.

Kate was a year older than all of them, she’d taken a year out after year twelve with her mum to travel to Spain to live with her boyfriend of the time, but after that had quickly broken down , they’d come back and Kate was only finishing year thirteen now with them. She’d come back from Spain with a tan and hedonistic outlook on life. Or as John had put in when commenting. ‘’ _She came back hotter_.’’

Kate was practically friends with everyone and so Eric wasn’t surprised to see the corridors of her house packed when he arrived. His eyes were unfortunately greeted with the sight of Christian and John’s heads leaned closely together talking, to hear each other over the music. So he didn’t go over to say hi. He’d usually wear something a bit more flashy on occasions like these; his ivory furry jacket or his Gucci black boots- but he was in a mild mood and dressed in all black.The music was so nostalgic, the 2000s Britney and Coldplay that took him back to various summers as a kid.

Ruby was in front of him suddenly, moving her hips carefreely, her gaze catching with Eric. She grins. And Eric grins back. He’s a terrible friend.

He had tried not to think about Dele, to be honest. It was easier this way. He didn’t want to acknowledge the fact that Dele was the closest thing he had to a friend at the moment. He was a good boy, genuinely. He didn’t really have to care about Diana but _he did_ and when Eric pushed him away endlessly at the beginning he never really pushed back.

‘’Dance with me you idiot!’’ Ruby yells over the music, grabbing his arms and pulling him forward. She moves her hips to LMFAO and Eric takes a moment before he joins her. Dancing has never really been his strong suit but he hops on his feet and follows Ruby’s lead. After a couple of drinks his heart races and he jumps up and down to the beat, _i’m sexy and i know it_ is repeated by the speakers so many times that Eric closes his eyes and mouths every single word. _Its fun_. He’s having so much fun.

He forgot how much he loved Ruby’s company. When she had moved away in year nine, it had hurt him. That was the thing, wasn’t it? It always felt like everyone eventually left him. He kisses her cheek and she smiles up at him.

That’s when he catches sight of Dele in the corner of the room, watching both of them. He’s in the faded red shirt he wore the first time they had met, his eyes dark in the faintly lit room when Eric looks at him. Still, he sees Dele nod his head. _Hey._

Eric ignores him and continues to dance with Ruby. She is beautiful, commanding attention in her short blue dress. Eric suddenly wished that Dele could like her. Why did he have to make things so complicated? The song ends and Ruby gets him another drink which he takes gratefully. The whole room could be captured in a painting at that moment. He knows that Kate, wherever she is, will be happy that everyone is happy because that's who she is- a _good person._ Eric isn’t.

He ditches Ruby and goes to the corner to where her brooding boyfriend is, flashing fake smiles at some of his schoolmates gagging for his attention, hands in his hair, on his waist, holding onto his arm.

‘’Popular lad, aren’t you.’’Dele comments, taking a sip of his water.

‘’You’re acting like a nun again.’’ Eric remarks, although he sways after and the words lose their edge.

‘’How drunk are you?’’ Dele asks him, wry sarcastic tinge to his voice.

‘’Drunk enough to talk to you in public.’’ Eric says, somewhat playfully. Although he wonders if there’s truth to it. Him and Dele have never hung out like this together in public before. He supposes its always because there’s the feeling of John breathing down his neck wherever he goes.

Dele snorts a laugh, tugging down his shirt, subconsciously. ‘’It’s kinda hot in here, isn’t it?’’ he adds after a bit. ‘

’It is.’’ Eric agrees. ‘’Come outside with me. I won’t murder you, i promise.’’

They find the open space of the balcony on Kate’s first floor that overlooks her back garden. Eric is light on his feet and almost stumbles so Dele’s hand appears, firm on his back, guiding him like a compass. 

Kate’s garden somehow takes on a maleficent form under the night sky, the shed and her bike forming warped shadows. ‘’This garden used to give me nightmares.’’ Eric says absentmindedly. ‘’A game of hide and seek gone wrong.’’

‘’They left you outside?’’ Dele says, surprised.

Eric nods, his arms finding the edge of the balcony railing and holding on tight. Even though he is standing perfectly still, it feels like his world is spinning.

‘’I imagine you’re not used to that. You’re a hard person to forget.’’ Dele adds, staring down at the grass beneath them.

Eric half smiles at that. ‘’A magnet, I guess you could say.’’

‘’I’m just boosting your ego aren’t I?’’

‘’I appreciate it, really.’’ he swallows hard, realising a hard truth. ‘’I’m nothing without my ego, you see. I need compliments and praise or I just... _fade_.’’

‘’You sound like a narcissist.’’ Dele says, glancing at him. He’s got a slight grin as he does so.

‘’Sue me.’’ Eric says with a shrug. He blames the people around him, basically worshipping him throughout his life to the point where compliments were just as vital to him as food.

‘’You’re not a very good dancer, though.’’ Dele said, sniggering and Eric made a face, although his lips were betraying him. 

‘’What part of narcissist didn’t you get?’’

‘’At one point you were just jumping up and down like-like a jack in the box, _Jesus_.’’ Dele said teasingly.

‘’Shut Up, Del.’’ the nickname slips out unexpectedly. ‘’Dele.’’ he corrects himself.

‘’ _Del._ ’’ Dele repeats, trying out the sound, testing the boundaries. ‘’Sounds a lot better than Bathroom Boy.’’

Eric breathes out slowly. ‘’Sorry about John he’s-’’ he pauses to find the right words. ‘’Got a different sort of humour.’’ he finished, somewhat lamely.

Dele made a face like _yeah right_ and then leant his arms against the balcony edge, the smooth white painted railings. It isn’t that far at all down, about two and a half metres but even so the way Dele is teetering off the edge is irritating him. ‘’What are you doing?’’ Eric said, his arm reaching out to pull Dele back slightly.

‘’Enjoying the view.’’ he answers, quite cryptically. 

Was he thinking about that girl again-Meghan? ‘’Is this how she-’’ Dele shot him a look that made him shut up instantly. _Is this how she tried to end her life? Is that what you’re trying to recreate? Is the misguided guilt still eating you up inside? I told you that it wasn’t your fault._

‘’You know what’s weird,’’ Dele began after their lapse in silence. ‘’How you haven’t told Ruby yet. Exposed me for the pathological liar that I am.’’

His words are so blunt that Eric half checks if he’s drunk but Dele’s brown eyes are fixated on his clearly. Eric’s still drunk himself, that's the only reason he has the fleeting thought that Dele’s eyes were really nice- intense and dark but nice.

‘’So doesn’t that reveal something about you, Eric?’’ Dele continues, but there's no malice in his voice. It's like he’s thinking out loud, trying to figure Eric out. ‘’That you don’t want her to know about _us._ ’’

Eric laughs silently and glances down into the garden. The brown shed that Kate had first kissed Harry in as a dare, the bike next to it that Eric had rode around during the summer before year nine, when his mum had visited ages ago and played a one off game of knock down ginger with them. He felt tears prick at his eyes.

‘’There is no us, Dele.’’ he said firmly.

It was the memory of his mum that was getting him. She didn’t even visit Kate’s house anymore. Kate’s mum- Lillian- and his mum used to be close, _so close_ , playdates and movies and picnics and now they weren’t-would never be again. Dele must have noticed because he closed the gap between them.

‘’Hey.’’ he said. ‘’I didn’t mean it like that.’’

‘’You idiot, it's nothing to do with what you said.’’ he snapped, annoyed that Dele thought he somehow had enough power to make Eric Dier shed tears. ‘’I’m just thinking.’’

‘’About what?’’ Dele pursued, eyes determined.

‘’My mum.’’ he practically whispered.

‘’I didn’t know you were a sad drunk.’’ Dele says.

‘’You barely know me, Dele.’’ Eric says, although he’s not sure how true that is.

‘’All the more reason to tell.’’ Dele shrugged. ‘’Eric, no one knows that I’m gay- you’re the first person I told because I knew that you wouldn’t really care or bring it up. You’re like the fucked up diary I never had.’’ he said, a little grin worming its way onto his face.

Eric couldn’t help but snort, hiding his own grin behind his hand. And then, obviously intoxicated, he brought a hand to Dele’s elbow and pulled him closer. Dele showed no signs of resistance. Eric knew that Dele liked him. He just didn’t know what to do with this fact. A part of him, a small part, wanted to experiment. He’d been bogged down in his increasingly failing relationship for some time now and it could be fun. But a larger part of him was grieving-even though his mother wasn’t gone yet. He was sure his judgement was all clouded and blurred.

Dele blinked at him expectantly, reminding Eric that this was all new for him. The whole _i like boys_ thing. ‘’Did you like it when I last kissed you?’’ He asks pointlessly. He was buying himself time. He was drunk and needy, wasn’t sure how far he would go with this, how much he might want it- just to try. To be held by someone who liked him and showed it.

‘’I’ve thought about it since.’’Dele answered. ‘’But thinking gets boring after a while.’’

The faint drift of music from inside was the last thing Eric heard before putting his lips against Dele’s right cheek. Just a brush of lips against skin. He’d diverted last second.

‘’-Eric, I’ve been looking all over for you.’’

Dele jumped away from him so fast he got whiplash and Eric blinked at him, surprised before he even registered his boyfriend's presence by the door. John looked gorgeous dressed in a navy blue suit, his hair slicked back real nice the way Eric usually liked it. He didn’t look arrogant or haughty the way he usually did. He looked _jealous._ He actually looked jealous. It was the type of emotion Eric had been trying to provoke for ages.

Dele glanced at John carefully but Eric knew that it wasn’t out of fear of John himself but the secret- that Dele was gay. That realisation was somehow worse. That Dele was so insecure with his own sexuality. _But confident around me._

‘’I’m going to go find Ruby.’’ Dele said, it came across as forced and he didn’t even wait for a response before striding past John and back into the house.

Eric watched him leave before facing John who clapped slowly as he came forwards. ‘’Well done, babe. I’m officially jealous- you got me. I mean, I didn’t think you’d stoop as low as using _Dele_ as your pawn but I have to say -you got me.’’

‘’What?’’ Eric said, his brain feeling a couple steps behind. He remembers Dele using those words earlier.

John sighed and flicked his hair. ‘’Well isn’t that why you kissed him? You just want me to give you attention.‘’

’’You’re making me sound pathetic.’’

‘’Well, it's not that far from the truth.’’ John shrugged and placed his hands on Eric’s waist, pulling him in for a hug which Eric fell into. He caught a whiff of John’s cologne. ‘’If it’s attention you want, I can give it to you.’’

‘’Did you fuck Eriksen?’’ he asks bluntly.

‘’That depends. Did you fuck Dele?’’

‘’No, of course not.’’

‘’Well then I didn’t fuck Eriksen.’’

‘’Get away from me.’’ Eric says, untangling himself.

‘’You’ve got no one else to go to.'' John asserted confidently, raising an eyebrow that indicated he thought Eric was acting weird. ''Dele couldn’t _wait_ to leave. And everyone else only cares about your violin. How many times do I have to tell you this?’’

Eric breathed out shakily, knowing he couldn’t even argue back. Everyone was so busy. Everyone kept leaving.

‘’ _I_ want to be there for you, Eric.’’John says, ‘‘’Us against the world, babe.’’ he adds, leaning down to kiss Eric again until Eric gives in and kisses back, desperate for the affection, for any of it, as much as he’s willing to give. But he hates it. He really fucking hates it. 

++

After arriving home in the early hours of the morning with John, they fall asleep together like old times. John takes up most of the space on the bed and Eric curls in on himself. It's just like old times apart from the fact that he’s struggling to sleep. He tosses and turns before sitting up, untangling his legs from John’s. The latter has his eyes shut, his white skin smooth under Eric’s fingers.

When Eric was crushing hard on him as a sixteen year old, he’d thought about moments like this: wrapped up in each other's company, cocooned together under the duvets, kissing until their lips hurt. And now his bedroom just felt too hot, a dawning claustrophobic feeling.

The truth was Dele was right; he _was_ a sad drunk. It was possibly his worst trait. He saw the world in greys and blacks when feeling like this. All he could think about was his mum. She was downstairs in her room, she only slept there because there was no way to get her upstairs in her wheelchair. But her bedroom before had been down the hallway from Eric’s - which was where he found his feet stumbling towards. He wanted more memories of her. He craved it. All the pictures she had allowed him to have were superficial; ones where her hair looked flawless, her smile engaging. But it wasn’t enough for him. Like any other human being, she was multifaceted - she couldn’t be summed up with a bunch of glamour shots.

Her old room hadn’t been touched - Eric had personally made sure of that. It smelt like that watermelon perfume she always used to wear. The mirror in the corner showed how much of a mess he was- his blonde hair was in disarray, his eyes dark with the pain. When he’d first found out about his mum ; he had gotten high a couple of times every day as a means of escaping. He’d contemplated on even getting a tattoo or a piercing to feel a different sort of pain to the emotional one. He could handle a tattoo gun or a needle. He couldn’t fucking handle his mum dying.

He brought his phone out of the pocket of his dressing gown and called Dele. Despite the lateness he was sure that Dele wouldn’t be mad, he was sure. He stood there, listening to the dialing tone and then blinking as it went to voicemail. He sighed and then tossed his phone to the side. _Don’t depend on him, don’t trust him, you don’t even know him. Not really._

Her drawers were half open with photo albums spilling out of it, the brown leather material as beautiful as one of her handbags. He knelt down and pulled open the second drawer as if he were in some sort of trance. _2005_ was the date on the front cover, an image of red and yellow tulips on the front. He would have been around four back then. Back when his dad was alive. His mother was healthy. Time was cruel, he concluded.

He flicked through it with the feeling of an intruder. Seeing himself with a few tufts of blonde hair and crooked teeth running around the garden or opening a christmas present was _weird_. It was like watching a stranger. His mum and dad were so happy together. They were adventurous and travelled all over the world, climbing mountains in Thailand then going on cruises in Cuba all the while Eric accompanied them either propped on his dad’s shoulders or holding his dad’s hand. Their love was obvious and clear. Four year old Eric didn’t have a bloody clue.

The album transitions from pictures of his mum and dad to mainly pictures of him. He was most definitely spoiled throughout this year, all his clothes match and in one photo he is fiddling with a Nokia phone. He laughs slightly at that one, knowing he wouldn’t be caught dead with a Nokia now. There's one photo that makes him pause though.

He looks like he’s in nursery if the bright primary colours of red, blue and yellow are anything to go off. His pale cheeks are splashed with smudges of paint and his fingers are gripping a paintbrush which he is pointing threateningly at a squealing Kate- her cheeks bright red with the excitement. He can tell its her by the round shape of her face which is similar to how she looks now.

That’s not the surprising part though- his surprise comes from the mixed race boy sat next to Kate, dressed stylishly in a white shirt and black shorts, a goofy laugh on his face as he watches the action.

Eric feels his heart stop and then speed up, quickly racing out of control. No. He was probably jumping to conclusions.

_Definitely._

And it wasn’t like Dele was the only mixed boy he’d ever met before. He squinted at the photo, taking in the little boy’s firm eyebrows and dark eyes, his short curls cut close to his head. There was a birthmark just above his knee.

His phone rang then scaring the shit out of him. He swallowed hard before checking out the ID. Speaking of the devil, he thought as he swiped to answer.

‘’What’s up, you okay?’’ Dele asked with a yawn, evidently tired.

Eric instantly felt bad, felt himself backtracking. ‘’Go to sleep.’’ he says, although his fingers make no move to end the call.

‘’Nah.’’ Dele insisted, even though his voice was heavy. He tried to mentally imagine what Dele’s eyebrows looked like, how brown his eyes were. If it were him-if it _was_ \- why was he there? Who were his parents, then? If it was him- then they already had met before. If it was him- why hadn't Eric known him until a couple of months ago? Did his mum know Dele? Is that why she liked him so much?

‘’Eric.’’ Dele said after his silence.

‘’I’m just - sad.’’ he said, fingers tracing the photo.

‘’I’m sad too.’’ Dele answered after a while.

_I wish we could get high together again._

‘’ _Talk_.’ Dele insists. ‘’I don’t care if you waffle-just... This house is too quiet.’’

Okay,Eric thinks. ‘’Do you remember anything about nursery?’’ he asks him.

‘’No. I don’t even remember my first care home. I wish I did, though. It could be a happy memory hidden somewhere.’’

‘’Did you end up finding Ruby? At Kate’s party.’’

‘’Er- yeah. She looked great.’’ Dele mumbles.

‘’What, better than I did?’’ he adds, half joking. He doesn’t even realise the edge to his voice as he does so.

‘’What is this, 21 questions?’’ Dele sniggers over the phone.

Eric doesn’t respond. Dele sighs. ‘’Did you go home with John?’’ he asks, his voice lower.

‘’You mean did I go home with my boyfriend? ‘Course I did.’’he says. ‘’You want to know what we did?’’

‘’No.’’ Dele says pointlessly because it's a rhetorical question.

‘’I got down on my knees and sucked him off.’’ he’s lying but he’s testing the boundaries. He remembers the way Dele had sprung away from him earlier when John found him. Does he feel uncomfortable? Does it make him uncomfortable?

‘’Want a gold star for that?’’ Dele sneers.

‘’I just don’t want you getting the wrong idea.’’ he continues, the sadness inside him translating into word vomit. ’’About us.’’

‘’There is no _us_ , remember Eric?’’ Dele says, paraphrasing Eric's earlier words. ‘’Although, I think its weird why you can’t tell John all your _anxieties and fears_.’’

It's Eric’s turn to sigh. He’s triggering an argument for no good reason. The last thing he wants is for Dele to hang up the phone. ‘’Ignore what I said.’’ Eric says, the nursery photo irritating him so he turns to the next page and this time his phone nearly drops.

His mum is there in the photo with her arms over Lilian's shoulders, a burly black man next to her with a charming grin. The two kids are Kate and who he thinks is Dele, hiding behind the man’s legs with smiles on their faces.

‘’Oh my God.’’ Eric says aloud, pushing the album away from him like a its a curse.

‘’What?’’ Dele says, still slightly annoyed.

And the truth is there poised on the tip of his tongue, is stuck in his throat but- it never comes out. His mouth opens and then shuts. He can’t. He realises that he doesn’t want to. How could he just say something like that in the middle of the night? He wasn’t even sure if it was an accurate conclusion, a small part of him asserted.

‘’Gods sake, Eric, what?’’ Dele snaps, tiredness and anxiety in his voice.

‘’I lied.’’ Eric said. ‘’I didn’t suck John off..’’

‘’Oh. Okay?’’

‘’I’ll let you sleep now.’’ Eric adds, hurrying to end the call.

‘’Sure.’’ Dele says yawning again.

‘’Good night’’ he adds, carefully, catching Dele’s sceptical snort in response.

Eric, later finds out that he agrees with Dele's pessimism because he doesn't have a good night. He has various nightmares. And Dele is in all of them, kissing him eagerly, hands down his pants jerking him off, whispering stuff on his ear that makes him hard as a rock. The worst nightmare of all is the recurring image of those photos of the same three year old mixed race child appearing in his head, over and over and over again like a broken record stuck on repeat. 


	9. Final Hour

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eric lives in his head rent free.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright i'm back. The support was so great in the last chapter, thanks so much its so motivating! See I'm getting a bit consistent with this uploading thing ;)

Ella and Meghan were taken away by social services a month ago today.

Meghan’s suicide attempt on Waterloo bridge had prompted a rapid re-assesment of their entire living situation by the local authorities. They had checked every single room in the house, every contact on Stacey’s phone, had taken them all individually for _chats_ about how they felt to continue living here. Dele couldn’t find it in him to move to _yet another_ foster home and Kyle and Jesse had felt exactly the same. _They were all almost eighteen anyways_ , the man in the suit had reasoned to his reluctant female colleague. _They’ll be out of here soon._

Meghan was being placed in a mental health unit in Chingford, she was deemed as mentally unstable- Stacey had told him -and the image was fucking weird, like Meghan was being locked away in a castle away from the rest of society.

Ella’s decision, on the other hand, was non-negotiable. They had quietly packed her stuff and taken her away. She didn’t even get to say goodbye properly. One day, Dele had come back from school and she had just been gone, when he’d just seen her that morning with bits of soap in her hair. It wasn’t the first time something like this had happened, at his other foster homes, kids got taken away all the time, either their parents wanted them back or they were moving somewhere else, it was a never ending cycle of movement and new names and new roommates.

But Ella had been different, she had meant a lot to all of them. And Dele had noticed that they hadn’t even packed her favourite board game of Snakes and Ladders- she wouldn’t even have that. He had cried silently that whole night, isolating himself into his bed. He tried to imagine her fear and anxiety and then realised he'd never be able to accurately capture her emotions. She had been brought up by Stacey basically her entire life- she viewed Stacey as a _mum_ -she would have no idea what was going on.

The blame game shifted every so often.

When his moods were dark, he would blame Meghan and her fake smile that day outside of the bathroom whilst planning something horrific. Sometimes he thought that she was a _terrible_ person, didn’t she think of the consequences of her actions? She’d fucked them all over and she was selfish for that.

And when his moods were _really_ dark, often reeling from the times when Eric would make a snide remark about his own mum which disgusted him - when he’d call her selfish before storming off to his room- or when Eric kissed him in one breath but then John in the other -like he was fucking toying with him, when his moods were murky and he listened to the Weeknd, sometimes he hoped that Meghan would end up in hell. He hoped that she'd burn there. _If that passerby hadn’t stopped her then maybe-_

Mostly, though, he blamed himself. Meghan had been in an unstable state of mind since she was a child, she’d had a shit past, she was always on the edge - walking a tightrope. So he should have known better. He shouldn’t have been so naive, so stupid. And he couldn’t really blame her for that.

 _One month anniversary,_ he thought bitterly. The dinner table had been quiet that day, moreso than usual. Even Jesse didn’t have anything to contribute to the conversation, rushing through his meal so he didn’t have to sit here and feel his sanity fade. Stacey was quiet, her fork scraping against the plate, but it sounded more like feet on gravel and Kyle was avoiding eye contact with them all. Dele couldn’t even stomach any food, tapping his fingers against his thigh, anxiously.

Jamie was out somewhere partying as he did every fucking weekend, stumbling back at four a.m in the morning and waking them all up when he slammed open the fridge to guzzle down some milk.

‘’Why don’t you all just say it?’’ Dele realised belatedly that he’d spoken, that the words had tumbled out from _his_ lips. _Just say its my fault, just admit it._

‘’Say what?’’ Jesse said dumbly, taking that oblivious approach.

‘’Dele.’’ Stacey said carefully, there’d usually be a streak of paint on her cheeks but she hadn’t been painting. She hadn’t painted in a while.

‘’ _I’ll_ say it then.’’ Kyle says, chewing his spoon of rice harder than is necessary. ‘’It’ your fault.’’

‘’Kyle, for God's sake.’’ Stacey told him off with a look. ‘’This isn't helping anyone.’’

‘’That’s all I needed to hear.'’ Dele says, leaving the dining table with a flourish. No one stops him.

He’s alone in bed when Eric calls him, half an hour later. He pulls the duvet covers over his head, forming a sort of makeshift tent and snuggles his head against the pillow. The phone calls are sort of a thing, like randomly whenever Eric feels like it-sometimes Eric has called him whilst he's drunk but sometimes he's sober and that's when they have the most interesting conversations. Because Eric's actually smart and has opinions on the world: on politics, music, the long documentaries he watches on Hollywood's golden age. And Dele sometimes teases him about it because documentaries are usually an hour minimum, which meant Eric usually perched in front of his laptop with a bottle of Chardonnay to watch terrible voiceovers about Rita Heyworth's rise to fame. The image was amusing to him. 

Eric tells him about Diana for a bit and then the violin, how he’s mastered Bach’s second volumes, how Harry and Kate went to the houses of parliament for a politics trip, and Harry graffitied the home secretary’s car without getting caught. Little interesting stories like that that take his mind off of things. He’d like to think that Eric’s being thoughtful, distrcting him on purpose because he knows that its been a month -because Dele told him last time.

His voice sounds muffled then so Dele asks, ‘’Where are you?’’ because he’s curious, of course, always curious about Eric.

‘’In bed.’’ Eric says, which makes sense because it sounds like he’s moving against his pillow and getting comfortable. In bed. He’s in bed. ‘’What about you?’’ this time its Eric’s turn to ask and he sounds like he’s smirking, like he already knows what Dele's going to say.

‘’I’m in bed as well.’’ he says quietly. ‘’ But I thought you’d be studying or something.’’

‘’I was but then I got bored. There’s only so many essays I can write about Shakespeare’s muse.’’

Dele laughs quietly, because Eric takes it so seriously but he’s got three pieces of homework due the neext day and yet here he is not moving an inch. They lapse into a silence then and as it lengthens Dele is becoming hyperaware of the fact that Eric told him that he was in bed. In bed.

The imagery itself was tempting. Eric on his back, blonde hair fanned out against his pillow like a halo even though he wasn't really an angel, legs spread against his bedsheets, palming himself throguh his boxers or even way past that already, touching himself gently. Eric's bed was huge too, he wouldn't have to limit himself or anything, he wouldn't have to hide anything because he didn't share a room with anyone the way Dele did. He could do whatever the hell he wanted in his room on his own. In his bed.

‘’What are you thinking about?’’ Eric asks casually and Dele almost splutters because his irrational thoughts belonged behind bars.

‘’Errr-’’ he drags it out, like a doofus.

‘’You can be honest.’’ he’s changing his tone subtly, but Dele notices, like he’s flirting almost but not quite, not openly flirting anyways. He hears Eric moving around again in the background and then Dele sighs. It’s not like he has to deal with Eric’s judgemental expressions like this, he can handle Eric’s voice alone. Its not like he has to deal with the lovely scent he has or how beautifully destructive his lips look when cured around the end of the joint.

‘’You.’’ he says. ‘’You..touching yourself.’’

Eric makes a noise of surprise ‘’That’s quite x-rated.’’ he says. He doesn't sound annoyed, though. ‘’Sounds a bit eighteen and over. And you’re only seventeen.’’

‘’I’m a _mature_ seventeen.’’ Dele insists because there's only like six months between them. 

‘’Yeah.’’ Eric says, words wrapped around a laugh. ‘’Alright.’’

‘’What?’’ Dele asks sharply, because he always feels two steps behind.

‘’I’ll do it. Just for you.’’ he can’t tell if Eric means it or not, but he can’t help but grab onto it. He could be playing around of course, he does that so much but Dele’s optimistic for once.

And then Eric makes a sound that’s quite breathy, a whisper of a moan and Dele cocoons himself underneath the duvet covers so he can savour these sounds, keep them all to himself. And its probably the most erotic seven minutes of his life as he listens with bated breath to Eric wanking himself off like the beautiful bastard he is. Dele’s hard, of course he is but he just wants to listen, just like this. He likes that Eric's really quiet, because it makes sense, that he never gives too much away. Even when he's pleasuring himself. And Eric’s breath hitches noticably when he comes and Dele suddenly despreately wants to see his face, how his lips and eyes react to the sensation and he lets out a breath he’s been holding in, his stomach burning with heat, heels of his feet digging into the bed. 

‘’Okay.’’ he manages to say. ‘’That was cool.’’

‘'Cool, yeah? _._ ’’ Eric repeats humorously, his voice raspier. That was hot as fuck. Jesus, that was hot.

‘’ _Cool_ , yeah. I always enjoy our -chats.’’

Eric laughs at that and Dele realises that he likes the sound quite a lot actually. ‘’If thats what its called now. .’’ Eric says, then. He wonders whether Eric’s still got cum on his fingers or if he’s wiped it off already. ‘’Did you like it?’’ he says more quietly, its practically a whisper down the phone, he can picture Eric’s lips next to his ear and not miles away. It makes the world feel a bit smaller. 

‘’Yeah.’’ he answers, matching Eric’s volume. "You know, you're always asking me that question. "

‘’I’m just waiting for you to admit it, Dele.’’

‘’Admit what?’’ he asks dumbly.

‘’That Ruby doesn’t make you feel like that. Not even a little bit.’’

He hates Eric in that moment for saying it, what they’d both probably been thinking. Its nice when thoughts stay thoughts, safe havens inside of brains because when they are said out loud everything becomes too real. Because playing pretend gets harder like this. 

‘’We come from different worlds, you know.’’ Dele says.

He can’t just admit that. It'd be easy for Eric to say from his mansion, with people kissing his feet because he can drag a bow across a bloody violin but Dele hasn’t got the same sort of backing, the people are different. Its not really the same.

‘’Same planet, though.’’ Eric reminds him and Dele buries his head into the pillow, hating the conversation.

He’s not really sure what Eric wants. Why does he want Dele to admit it? For Dele’s sake or his? Is it just so he can be right about something else, so he can have a bit of entertainment when he’s bored. He realises that Eric is extremely irritating, a lot actually, purposefully, like he’s still not convinced that Dele’s there with Diana for the right reasons or that he’s jealous that he is. He’s not stupid and he can tell sometimes.

But a part of him also likes the fact that Eric’s a bit complex and multifaceted, he likes the challenge, that he has to work a bit harder to figure things out.

After their call, Kyle strolls into the room, humming loudly, the door flinging open and then he’s pulling the duvet off, exposing dele in the hot aftermath of listening to Eric Dier masturbting on the phone. His eyes are blinking frantically, trying to adjust to the blinding lights overhead.

‘’What the fuck are you doing under there?’ he questions, raising an eyebrow. ‘’And why are you always on the _phone?_ ’’'

‘’None of your business.’’ he says, sitting up sharply.

‘’Who’s paying for your phone bill, though?’’ Kyle says pointedly, looking smug just because his parents had resorted to stuffing him with cash to make up for the seventeen years they’d missed. And Kyle’s easy to win over so the materialistic stuff is enough. But if that was Dele he wouldn’t take it.

‘’Give it a rest, Kyle.’’ Dele rolls his eyes.

‘’That’s what I’m trying to do.’’ he puts a hand forward as a sort of truce. ‘’I’m tired of arguing with you about Meghan and...basically everything else.’’ he blinks down at him sincerely, like he's calmed down a lot since the comment at the dinner table.

Dele sighs and takes his hand firmly. ‘’That’s nice to know.’’

‘’Besides,’’Kyle says. ‘’It’s Jamie we really should be ganging up against. He’s finished all the Cornflakes.’’

‘’Wasn’t the packet full just this morning?’’

‘’Exactly.’’ Kyle says, pointing at him. ‘’He’s a hazard, you know. Not only that but his room stinks of weed all the time.’’

Dele hums, thinking of when Eric had shared his joint, the heat of their bodies radiating off of each other and Eric watching him carefully, grinning when he coughed like it was something cute.

Jamie had quickly taken Ella’s room so he didn’t have to room with Jesse anymore, which just meant he had more of a license to watch porn and smoke.

‘’As long as he isn’t selling at the school anymore.’’ he says, eventually.

‘’Yeah.’’ Kyle agrees with a short laugh. ‘’There’s always that.’’ 

++

He’s at his locker, pulling out his maths books for his period one and two lessons, when Ruby appears beside him. She had straightened her hair and trimmed it close to her shoulders for the New Year. When did that happen? He hadn’t even noticed.

She wasn’t smiling the way she usually did around him, her red lips drawn into a serious line. ‘’Dele, we need to talk.’’ She said.

He was on edge immediately, shutting his locker shut. ‘’About what?’’ he asked as carefully as he could. _Can you tell? Did Eric snitch to spite him? Can you tell, is it obvious?_

‘’About us.’’

He sucks in a breath and rubs a hand through his hair. He’s already nervous. ‘’Actually- I think I’m late for my lesson.’’ he blurted, attempting to get away.

She blocked his way and smiled slightly, just a tilt of her lips. ‘’Since when did you give a fuck about punctuality?’’

She was right, of course. He had never cared.

‘’Look, I know, okay?’’ she said, her brown eyes shimmering at him. She took both of his hands in his and squeezed lightly.

He gulps and stares at his black Kickers. He’d been planning on conjuring up a lie but maybe it would have been less exhausting this way- if she just broke up with him, then it would be so much easier. ‘’Did Eric tell you?’’ He asks quietly. _Eric's version of fun_ , he thought bitterly.

It was Ruby’s turn to frown, her eyebrows drawn together. ‘’What does Eric have to do with anything?’’ She says.

He backtracks immediately, knowing panickedly that he’s gotten it wrong. ‘’Wait, what are you talking about?’’

Ruby raises an eyebrow but then lets him off. ‘’ _Prom_ , you idiot.’’ She says, fondly. ‘’I know you’re too nervous to ask me so I’m going to break tradition and ask _you_ instead.’’

There’s the sound of giggles behind her and Dele realises that some of her friends are watching them- she’d probably told them in advance. One of the girls - Kezia - he was sure her name was, gave him a thumbs up and grinned excitedly.

‘’Prom.’’ Dele said, feeling bewildered. He’d forgotten all about it. It was weird to him that they were somehow in January. So much had happened. ‘’Isn’t that in July?’’

Ruby shrugged. ‘’All the more time for us to get ready.’’

‘’Right.’’ Dele said, nodding. ‘’ _Right_. Yeah. Course.’’ he added. 

‘’Not the best with words, Dele.’’ she laughs quietly and leans up to kiss him but Dele can’t. He lets her have his cheek instead. She had kissed the same place as Eric.

He nods at her hair. ‘’I like it. It’s pretty.’’

‘’Thanks, babe.’’ she says. ‘’See you at lunch, my love!’’ she claims dramatically, curtseying with her short green pleated skirt. Her friends laugh and chatter excitedly as she joins them. Dele leans his head against his locker and sighs before heading towards his maths lesson. 

++

He gets a text from Eric whilst he’s in P.E, halfway through changing into his sports kit. His heart raced at the notification, and he rushed to open it. 

_She’s gone._

He didn’t need to ask who he was talking about. He was still as he re-read the words over and over, as if his eyes were refusing to believe it. Even though it was inevitable, even though they had all known it was coming- there was still a part of him hoping for some sort of miracle. That it would magically get better. But it was over now. Her life was over. Just like that. With two measly fucking words.

He tries to call Eric, hunched over his sports bag but the blonde declines and in a way he’s sort of expecting it, really. He had a feeling that Eric was in his room right then instead of school, a spliff in his hand or a bottle of Whiskey on his bed, half open. He was going to get shit faced. He was going to push hmself right to the edge. 

**_Don’t call. Don’t waste your time._ **

_**Its not a waste of time**. _ Dele replies swiftly because Eric always fucking does this. Little snide comments. **_You don’t have to be alone._ **

_**I’m not.** _

He clenched his jaw and thought about John being there. He felt selfish for caring about it so much in the midst of a tragedy but John didn’t _deserve_ to comfort him because he was barely there half the time. During their talks, Diana had said that John never really talked to her.

He tossed the phone into his bag, half grieving, half annoyed. There was movement on the other side of the locker room and Dele jumped to see Marcus Rashford blinking at him, halfway through pulling up his white socks. He waited for a question or a comment, _who were you texting, why do you look so sad,_ but it never arrived which he was sort of grateful for. Marcus quietly got pulled his socks on and left to go into the sports hall, Dele following suit.

He wasn’t himself throughout the session and the coach had to keep calling him out, when his mind wandered off thinking about how Diana always gave the nicest hugs, how she could always bring a story vividly to life just with her words.

After the class’ game of football they all returned back to the locker rooms, sweaty and out of breath. Raheem and Jordan dressed back into their uniform in a hurry and left pretty quickly, allured by the prospect of sausages and mash for lunch. The place emptied pretty quickly but Dele took his time, half checking his phone for any updates from Eric. But there was nothing.

On his way out towards the canteen, Marcus caught up with him, his face still glowing with sweat. He’d scored a couple of goals in their football match earlier- Dele had noted that he was good. He’d never really noticed it before but Marcus was really skilled, he’d nutmegged a couple of them and could finish with ease. And then he’d come off the field and it was like a completely different person; his shoulders hunched and his face shy. Marcus smiled at him cautiously, as if he wasn’t sure he was allowed to. Like he was breaking whatever unwritten rules there were.

Dele raised an eyebrow when Marcus didn’t speak, the other boy staring at him nervously. ‘’Are..you okay?’’ Dele asked.

‘’- _Yeah._ Yeah.’’ he nodded frantically and gripped his rucksack. ‘’I was just going to say that - well, as a student ambassador we try to like - encourage people to get involved in events. Erm,’’ he swallowed hard, he was so _nervous,_ ‘’ I was just wondering if you’d come for our Pride book collection event in the library next month.’’

‘’What?’’ Dele said, instinctively taking a step back. ‘’Why are you asking me?’’

‘’Not just you- a lot of people.’’ Marcus amended quickly, acknowledging the weirdly defensive vibe Dele was giving off. He needed to chill the fuck out. Dele took a deep breath.

’’You don’t have to come of course- I’m just getting the word out there.’’ and then Marcus smiled wryly, ‘’I think you can imagine it’s a tough event to sell.’’

Dele could definitely imagine so. ‘’I’ll think about it.’’ he said, although he had no plans on going.

If he went then there would be no going back. He would be _gay_ gay _._ Like gay and trying to figure out about other people like him throughout literature, music and history. It would be torture. Or _freedom._ It would be big, would be scary either way. Although, he still sort of took a masochistic delight from being in a state of limbo that he found himself in; kissing Eric and liking it but also denying that _that_ side of him existed. Maybe he was getting bored of playing limbo.

Dele watched Marcus walk away, sticking a couple of posters on the wall about the event, its rainbow coloured face of the LGBT flag gracing the front. And then, in the same moment, a couple of boys bounding down the corridor from year twelve tore it down, their faces etched with disgust, ruining all of Marcus’ good work. 

++

The canteen is a mess. It's a loud, bumbling, awkward, frenzied clash of eleven to eighteen year olds all in different stages of their lives.

And Dele didn’t usually come here, but Ruby had said they would hang today at lunch.

A lot of people had been talking about her stylish haircut in maths that morning, some girls even labelling her as a fashion icon. In one of their conversations, Eric had mentioned that she had been exactly like that at St. Andrews. _A trend setter. The it girl. Her own Blair Waldorf._

He stood there, tray full of macaroni and cheese in his hands, glancing around, feeling a little silly as around him people grabbed their lunch and sat comfortably with their friends, grins on their faces, talking about Netflix and sex and teachers and Stormzy.

Raheem was with Jordan and his other friends, their faces relaxed as they joked about the NBA and Arsenal’s rubbish form that season. His eyes suddenly clocked Jesse, sat near the middle of the room with his friends- a mixture of boys and girls. One of the girls was Adaobi - she’d been in his english literature classes during GCSE’s, he’d sat next to her once. She used to wear wigs and extensions but at some point she’d shaved all her hair off. She had dated Raheem for a while before breaking up with him. ‘’He likes my wigs more than he likes me.’’ She had said, when people had asked. At some point her whole friendship group embraced their Afro-centric features as acts of black consciousness, proudly flaunting their natural hair and names of their heritage and background. It was no wonder Jesse had become _woke woke._

‘’This is some bullshit,’’ he’d said back in September when looking at the topics he’d be learning for history. ‘’You’d think all the blacks arrived during the 1960’s.’’

Dele made a decision to go sit with them as he’d been stood there for what felt like ages and couldn’t find Ruby. The table looked up at his presence including Jesse who looked surprised.

‘’Hey,’’ Dele said, taking a seat next to Jesse.

‘’Err- _hi.’’_ Paul said, tilting his head to look at Dele, he’d dyed his hair red that week.

Dele braced himself for an awkward silence but it never came, they continued with their conversation. Jesse nudged his leg underneath the table. Dele looked at him expectantly. ‘’You okay?’’ He asked quietly.

‘’Yeah, I just couldn’t find Ruby-’’

‘’No, I mean are _you_ okay?’’

‘’Oh,’’ Dele said. No one never really asked him that. Questions were never that simple anymore so it was nice to be asked. ‘’Could be better, I guess.’’ he said, surprisingly honest.

Jesse nodded contemplatively. He seemed like the only person who wasn’t mad at him, even though he was just as close to Ella as Dele was - maybe even closer.

‘’Look, I’m not saying that I wouldn’t date a white guy..’’ Adaobi was saying as she chewed a piece of sausage. ‘’I’d just be _extremely_ reluctant to.’’

‘’Just say it with your chest.’’ Tobi said, rolling his eyes. ‘’It would be counter intuitive wouldn’t you say? Is that white person _really_ going to march down the streets with you supporting BLM?’’

Dele’s ears pricked up at the conversation, surprised at the bluntness of their tones. Did they really believe that? ‘’Isn’t that a bit stereotypical?’’ he found himself saying, thinking of Kate and Harry who were hyper-conscious of the social issues disproportionately affecting ethnic minorities. Thinking of Eric who was more interested in researching Shakespeare's muse than any of his plays, just because he'd seen _Emilia_ once. Because he also admired Dorothy Dandridge's role in changing the climate of Hollywood for black actresses in the 1950s. 

They all turned as one to look at him, like they'd forgotten he was there for a second. 

‘’Don’t mind him,’’ Paul said coolly, dismissing his comment. ‘’He’s dating one of them.’’

_One of them?_

‘’Who, Ruby?’’ Octavia chips in, chewing her gum, her kinky hair held back firmly with a headband.

‘’Ruby Mae.’’ Jesse confirms, although not with any venom. He's looking at Dele a bit sympathetically, like he's dug himself a hole here. 

‘’Ruby isn’t like that.’’ Dele says, slightly defensive. It’s true.

‘’Oh please, Dele.’’ Adaobi raises an eyebrow and bats away his comment with a wave of finger. ‘’Who’s side are you on?’’

Dele stared at them all with a frown. ‘’Side? I’m mixed race.’’

‘’Sure.’’ Tobi concedes. ‘’But the feds don’t care about that. So you need to choose.’’

‘’Sounds like a bit like bullshit.’’ Dele shook his head, refusing to answer. Choose what exactly? To be black or to be white? What did that even mean?

‘’You say that now, Dele.’’ Jesse says, like he's about to conclude the conversation with all the knowledge he's borrowed from Huffington Post online articles, ‘’Because we’re cocooned within this school where everyone looks like us. But wait till we grow up- see the workplace. Things are _different._ I think its better to ask the tough questions now.’’ 

Dele looked at him exasperatedly, he was convinced everything they were saying was absolute rubbish. ‘’You guys are all conspiracists, anyways.’’ He said, shaking his head, grabbing his tray and getting up to leave.

The reason he was so triggered wasn’t necessarily to do with Ruby but _Eric_ . The possibility of Eric seeing him the way they had so vividly described. Did Eric see him as a _black_ teenager and the connotations that came with that. When they had kissed did Eric think he was kissing a _black boy_? There was also a stubborn part of him that didn't want anything to ruin the image of Eric that he was building up in his head; smart, talented - only a little cold. But there was good reason for that. He just needed someone to lean on, and Dele thought it could be him. 

++

A couple of weeks later, Dele gets the invitation to Diana’s funeral. It comes as a text from Eric. There are no pleasantries, just the date and the location and a: _wear a suit_ at the end.

He approaches Stacey tentatively to ask for some pocket money whilst she prepares breakfast.

‘’Sure.’’ she says, too easily, as she turns the egg on the frying pan.

‘’That’s it?’’ he asks. He had been preparing to beg.

‘’My duty as a foster mum is to make you all happy.’’ she parrots, with a self-deprecating laugh. ‘’Meghan _obviously_ wasn’t so I failed there. I can’t do that again.’’

Dele sighs, his hands finding the table. ‘’Stacey..I’m sorry.’’

‘’I’m not blaming you.’’ She says sharply, her short blonde hair flicking as she shakes her head. ‘’ I’m just - still upset about all of it. I miss my girls.’’ her voice cracked and she hid her face from him. ‘’There's £40 on the counter.’’

He nodded slowly, backing away grabbing the four ten pound notes.

‘’It’s not your fault, you know.’’ Stacey said, suddenly. Dele glanced back and met her strong blue-eyed gaze. ‘’It’s unfortunate but-don’t blame yourself.’’ she says firmly.It makes him feel better.

He’s quick at John Lewis, grabbing a navy blue suit on discount and dropping the matching tie at the till because it's too damn expensive.

He deliberately doesn’t go to the church service, he can picture himself suffocating from the sombre mood and the sight of Diana’s coffin either open or closed is too much to bear. Oddly enough, he doesn’t know anyone who’s died before. But that may just have been because he didn’t really know many people. Once he’s on the train, he thinks of what he’ll say to Eric, how he’ll be feeling, whether Eric’s going to have red eyes from the tears or the weed. It would be typical if it was more so the latter.

The venue is a hall in Westminster with lots of pretty flowers either side of a driveway littered with expensive cars from Bentlys to Fords. He sees Eric first when he gets inside, on stage playing the violin to all the people in the room. It's like when Dele had gone to Eric’s party and he’d been surrounded by a sea of white- the only brown face in the room. It’s like that now. He couldn’t help but wonder how they saw him, thinking about Tobi’s words. Was he black to them?

Fancy black hats and dresses and suits and skirts are the clothes many decided on. It's mostly an older crowd-obviously -with experienced faces and high noses. On second thoughts, he thinks he should have chosen a black suit instead- now he stands out for two reasons.

On a wooden raised platform, Eric plays Ave Maria on his violin, his eyes shut, his white skin contrasting beautifully with his coal black suit and polished black shoes.

Dele sucks in a breath. He’s so entranced that he doesn’t even notice a white woman staring at him intently until some moments later. Her hair is a fair shade of blonde, pinned back from her face, her eyes blue but not like Eric’s - slightly lighter. She looks to be in her late 40’s and there’s a couple of lines on her face that give away her age. Her black dress trails down to her ankles where she has black heels fitted on. Dele doesn’t know what her problem is.

If he continues to stare right back, is he in the wrong? If he confronts her is he aggressive? If he does nothing is he a coward? None of these scenarios changed the way she was staring at him, as if confused and yet angry all in one sentence.

Dele made the decision to look away, back to Eric who was finishing the last note, dragging it out, an ode to the beauty of many Catholic songs. The room clapped politely, just as aware as Dele how brilliantly it was, but also remembering the occasion.

Eric went to put away his violin back into his case and Dele took the chance to go say hi. Except everyone else was thinking the same thing and he found himself being pushed back by all of Eric’s assumedly relatives and friends, their voices sympathetic and hushed, handing him various expensive gifts. Dele cursed silently, realising just then that he hadn’t brought anything with him. _How stupid._

As Eric was surrounded, Dele went to get a drink, pouring himself water rather than the other option of vodka or the more fruity punch that was offered. He noticed a large proportion of the vodka bottle had been cut in half, already.

‘’Hey.’’ Eric said, beside him suddenly. Dele almost dropped his glass and Eric’s lips quirked.

''Hey.'' Dele replied.

‘’I like your suit,’’ Eric added, pouring himself some water too. Dele was pleasantly surprised. ‘’It’s not as miserable as black.’’

‘’Thanks,’’ Dele said, flicking a piece of lint off his blazer. ‘’I thought you’d want the vodka, though.’’ he admitted.

‘’I do but-’’ he glanced down. ‘’I’m a sad drunk right? And I’m already sad so that would just be like..too much sadness.’’

‘’Right.’’ Dele nodded.

Half of him wanted to bring up how Eric had been ignoring his texts and how- when he _did text_ -how standoffish he came across but it seemed like a selfish thing to say considering where they were and _why_ they were here.

‘’You’re not gonna go see Ruby?’’ Eric asked conversationally.

‘’I didn’t know she was here.’’ Dele said, looking around. Eric nodded towards the other side of the room where Ruby was talking intensely with Kate, the both of them dressed in black. ‘’I’m good here, I think.’’ He shrugged, glancing at Eric slightly.

Eric was staring at him softly, a small smile worming its way onto his face. ‘’You’re too nice to me, Dele.’’

‘’Maybe try being nice back?’’ Dele said, half jokingly.

John appeared on the raised platform at the front, tapping the mic and tearing his attention away from Eric. John ran a hand through his hair and cleared his throat. A hush descended amongst the guests. ‘’I’m sure most of you know who I am,’’ he began and Dele couldn’t help but roll his eyes. Eric caught him and sniggered.

‘’But in case you don’t, I’m John - a close _friend_ of Eric’s’’ There was some laughter and some stiff upper lips. Why hadn’t he said boyfriend, Dele couldn’t help but wonder.

‘’I know for a fact that Diana would feel blessed to have so many of you here. At one point she impacted every single one of our lives. When Eric first introduced me to Diana, I remember being nervous. I had to impress her. I went to Waitrose and got some roses.’’ he paused dramatically, knowing the audience was hanging onto every word. ‘’I thought she’d like the gesture but then she told me she told me she was _allergic_ and I looked stupid with about a hundred damn flowers fresh out the shop.’’

Laughter.

Eric leaned close from behind him, lips close to his ear. ‘’Never happened.’’ he said, quietly.

‘’And I almost believed him.’’ Dele said, goosebumps because of Eric’s light breath. 

‘’Despite the initial setback, Diana and I became really close. I saw her as my second mum in a way. She was an amazing person and I miss her as I’m sure we all do. So I’d like to make a toast to Diana Dier.’’ he raises his glass.

They all raise their glasses back. ‘’To Diana.’’ they all chorus as one.

‘’Was any of that true?’’ he asks Eric, once it's over. 

‘’John’s the best actor there is.’’ Eric responds, finishing his glass with a long gulp.

Glancing around, Dele caught the gaze of that blonde woman from earlier. He nudged Eric gently. ‘’Who is she? She kept looking at me earlier.’’

Eric followed the direction of his nod and stiffened slightly. Dele only noticed because he was hyper aware of every action Eric made seeing as they were only inches apart. ‘’Oh.’’ Eric said. ‘’Kate’s mum.’’

Dele nodded absentmindedly. All this time of going to Kate’s house, he’d never actually seen her mum. So what was her problem, then?

‘’Do you wanna get out of here?’’ Eric said, suddenly.

‘’Yeah.’’ Dele said immediately, no questions asked.

Eric put down his glass and grabbed his violin case from the back of the room and they snuck out together.

++

Eric takes him to a graveyard nearby.

It's definitely not what Dele had been imagining when Eric had said with a spark in his eye _‘’do you want to get out of here._ ’’

He stops dead in his tracks at the sight of hundreds of headstones, all slowly being eaten up the ever growing green grass. It’s a terrifying sight. Ahead of him, Eric is looking around carefully, his black violin case bumping against his knee. _His mum_ \- Dele realises belatedly like an idiot. They were here to see his mum. Or at least, where she had been buried. He’s even more grateful that he didn’t go to the church service now. His stomach feels sick at the thought of the soil being heaved on top of her coffin.

He gulps hard and looks at the closest headstone near him, a woman named Liezel who died in 1956. Dele wonders what type of life she had, if she ever found the love of her life, how she had felt when the second world war ended, if she ever had any children or not.

Eric turns back towards him, blue eyes focused and dark. ‘’I’m looking for my dad.’’ he says, quietly.

_Oh._

‘’What was his name?’’ Dele asks.

‘’George.’’ Eric says, eyes flicking past dele to Liezel’s grave. Is he wondering about her life too? ‘’I used to know where it was but now I can’t _find it._ ‘’ He looks slightly frustrated, his cheeks flushed with the cold.

‘’Hey,’’ Dele says, striding forward. He takes Eric’s violin case from him because it looks too heavy for him and he's distracted. Eric lets him. ‘’We’ll find it, yeah?’’ He says determinedly.

Eric looks at him from under his lashes and Dele’s breath catches for the second fucking time that day. . ‘’Okay.’’ he says, nodding slightly. ‘’2009. That’s when he died.’’

‘’Okay,’’ Dele says, glancing around. His heart sinks as he does so. There were so many graves around them. He didn’t believe in ghosts but if he did he would've been shitting himself. ‘’When’s the last time you came here?’’

‘’About four years ago.’’ Eric said.

‘’And why did you stop coming?’’

‘’I don’t know.’’ He shrugged and bit on his bottom lip anxiously. ‘’I guess I just-forgot to? And I’m scared that I’ll forget my mum too. Forget to visit her.’’

Dele stared at him, surprised that Eric was being so open with him. Dele wasnt a fucking therapist, he didn’t know what to say in response so he hesitantly reached a hand out for Eric to take. Eric paused before he sighed and took Dele’s hand. They probably looked really stupid to any passing stranger but Dele’s hands were warm so he didn’t care. The thing was, no one knew him in Westminster, so he could do whatever the fuck he wanted really.

They walked in circles for what felt like ages, Dele eventually having to push for George’s middle name, a description of his headstone, was it in the middle or towards the main road? They eventually found it towards the middle, a marble grey tombstone with George’s name in cursive letters, a vase full of wilted flowers just in front, _beloved husband and father._

The place was eerily quiet and all Dele could hear was his and Eric’s slow breaths, the mist in the air whenever they spoke. He thought Eric would go closer but he didn’t move an inch. And they were still holding hands.

Dele had an idea. He turned to face Eric. ‘’I think you should play.’’ he said, gesturing towards Eric’s violin.

‘’You’re crazy.’’ Eric scoffed softly with a laugh. ‘’Who even does that? In a graveyard? Seriously, Dele.’’

‘’What’s the issue?’’ Dele said, placing the case down on the grass and opening it up. ‘’No one’s even here.’’ he added.

‘’You’re here.’’ Eric said, reluctantly.

‘’Play anything you want I don’t care- I just thought it would be a good thing to do.’’

‘’This is so stupid.’’ Eric said, even though he had taken the violin from Dele, his hands brushing over it as if it were a baby. ‘

Dele realised he was probably embarrassed. ‘’I can turn around if you want.’’ He suggests.

Eric rolled his eyes. ‘’No, don’t do that. I’ll-it’s fine.’’ he steadied his posture, positioned his chin and then began to move the bow. It was Ave Maria again, but at a slower pace, more meticulous and soulful. He noted that Eric wasn’t shutting his eyes the way he usually did, he was playing directly to the tombstone to his _father._

Dele relaxed himself and laid down on the grass stretching out his legs, aware his suit was creased but not caring. This was actually - nice. In the strangest of ways. And the contrast was interesting. Because like- how was it possible to be around the dead and yet feel so fucking _alive?_

Eric finished playing and Dele burst into obnoxiously loud applause which made Eric scowl although the grin on his lips betrayed him.

‘’Shut Up.’’ Eric said potently.

Dele cheered louder on purpose, even adding in a _whoop._ ‘’Encore! Encore!’’ his voice echoing arounf the grounds.

‘’Weirdo.’’ Eric said, although he was bending down to grin at him.

Dele threw his head back and laughed. ‘’I’m not kidding, though- that was great.’’ he decared it factually. ‘’Your dad would be proud, you know.’’

Eric smiled, wrinkling his nose and sat down next to Dele, his legs bumping into his accidentally. It could have been on purpose, even. He sort of braced himself for a comment from Eric, something snarky but it never came.

‘’This is so fucking weird and yet- I actually like it. It’s like-insanely brilliant.’’ Eric said instead, staring up at the sky, like he’s searching for non-existent stars. ''My dad never really got to see me play, so..That was nice.'' 

Dele brushes his arm lightly , gets his attention so he’s looking at him now. Eric glances down at his suit, picking at a piece of fluff and it shouldn’t feel sexual but it does. Why does everything feel so sexual?

‘’What’s your excuse now?’’ Eric says quietly. ‘’The first time; i kissed you. The second time; you weren’t thinking straight. So..what is it now?’’

Dele gulped hard, blinking down at Eric’s tie which isn’t as perfectly straight as it had been earlier. ‘’I think I’ve run out of excuses.’’ he admits, the truth feels sweet on his tongue. He wants Eric to taste it too.

And Eric doesnt shy away when he leans forward, like he was sort of expecting it. He can read Dele so well. The kiss is slow, its quiet and hushed like their both paying their respects to Diana. He thinks he's comforting Eric really, he's sorry for his loss and he's trying to express that with his lips. So its quite languid and Eric's tongue is almost lazy against his, like their re-creating a slower version of Ave Maria with their lips.

He savours every bit of it because he’s completely sober and he still wants it and Eric’s completely sober but he’s kissing him back and John isn’t here and neither is Ruby. There’s no one else here. It was just them and thousands of other souls. Almost like a secret. Dele was leading it, leaning heavily onto his right arm, sinking Eric back onto the grass so his posh suit becomes just as messed up as Dele’s is-maybe even more.

They pull apart and Dele takes a shaky, shallow breath, his fingers are so cold, they're freezing. He realised that he hadn't even brought a coat with him. 

‘’I was with Maria.’’ Eric tells him, catching his breath, his cheeks flushed.

‘’What?’’ Dele says, pulling back so he doesn’t go cross eyed because they are so fucking close.

‘’When I texted you saying that I wasn’t alone. I was with her.’’ _Not John not John not John._ "We found her." Eric continued, still lying down. There was a small, wilted flower tangled in his hair, it looked kinda beautiful. "We just found her and she was.."

"Eric." He says, his breath forming wispy mini-clouds in front of his face. January was an unforgiving month.

"Shutup, Del." Eric says quietly. Theres no bite to it though. Theres no bite to anything. It occurs to him that he might never going to see Eric like this again, so soft and pliant, raw and vulnerable. "I just- I keep seeing it in my head."

Dele moves closer to him, slides across the grass, slides his hands in-between Eric's black blazer, the material silky against his hands.

"What are you doing?" Eric asks, frowning slightly but he doesn't push him away.

"I'm cold." He says truthfully. "Don't you feel it? The breeze."

"I feel it, yeah. I just don't really care."

"You could catch pneumonia, you know."

"I don't care about that either." Eric says adamantly. 

"You don't mean that." Dele says confidently. Eric was understandably moody, it made sense.

Eric's silent then and Dele nudges their hands together, chasing some sort of warmth.

"You weren't joking about being cold." Eric comments, shivering slightly when their hands touch. He can't tell if its solely because of the weather or not.

"I'm not gonna stop coming over." Dele tells him. "That's not gonna change."

Even though he says it like a statement, hes sort of searching for permission to. He wants to know that Eric wants him there as much as Dele wants to _be_ there. So he waits for Eric to do something. And for the longest time he doesn't do anything and they are just lying there, listening to each other breathing, the sound of a distant car across the road, Eric sniffing a bit because he's feeling the cold too. 

And then Eric angles his body slightly towards him, his body language more open, hugging Dele back with steady arms, his hands just above his waist. He doesn't say anything but that's okay because its more than enough.

It was enough because like this, at this exact moment in time Dele could pretend he was free with his sexuality, that he wasn’t some kid from a care home, that he had some sort of future ahead of him planned the way Eric did. It occurred to him that it was a turning point. And despite all of the death around him both literally and theoretically, he could choose _life_ , to live, to feel alive, permanently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realised how long the chapters are getting, I can't help myself- i blame Dele.


	10. Every Ghetto, Every City

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eric isn't a dickhead. Dele begins to accept himself.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hiii, hope you're all doing well, here's another update! another long chapter up ahead.

Eric owned a Birdhousestyle clock on the drawer beside his bed- it was the only clock Dele had ever seen that didn’t actually tell you the time, there were no numbers visually, just two hands wandering around aimlessly- so Dele wasn’t really aware of how long he’d been sitting there on the carpet, legs crossed, an untouched maths textbook in front of him watching Eric smoke by the window, his coiled breath drifting out of the room and joining the rest of the air outside on a journey to nowhere.

Eric's sweater was too large for him, and pooled down to his thighs, after which was only his smooth white skin, the pureness of it all clashing with the red of the walls behind him, like they were both dwelling in hell together. At first he hdn’t understood why such a harsh colour had been chosen to adorn the room, he’d expected something softer, maybe a pastal colour or the standard cream but the red was comforting in a way; openly representing something like rage or power or _sin_.

Dele looked away at the scene for a second at the leather chair towards the centre of the room, the large telly in the corner which was switched off, a white furry jacket hanging on the peg behind the door that would swallow him wjhole if he put it on. And everytime he tried to solve the maths eqution, his head blanked out. Why should he bother? Even if he did pass his A-levels...what then? _The world would be his oyster?_ He scoffed at the thought.

Eric looked over at him then, glazed blue eyes glazed running over Dele’s thick grey jumper, his ripped blue jeans, then back up to his face, staying there, even when he took another puff and his cheeks hollowed slightly to suck in the nicotine. Dele watched back, distinctly feeling himself falling. And then Eric smiled coyly and looked away again; like he knew exactly what he was thinking.

‘’Want a turn?’’ he asked, referring to the cigarette with a wave.

’’Nah.’’ Dele said, shaking his head.

‘’You liked it before.’’ Eric reminded him.

‘’I didn’t like it-I just needed it at the time.’’ Dele says with a shrug. That was when he’d felt guilty over Meghan. Not that it had disappeared completely but it was more of a dull ache than a present one.

‘’So you don’t need it now.’’ Eric nodded contemplatively. ‘’That’s good, then. It means things are better-right?’’

‘’I guess, yeah.’’ Dele muttered, stretching his arms and legs which had been in the same position now for God knows how long.

He catches Eric glancing at him in the corner of his eye but when Dele looks at him properly he glances away again, staring hard out of the window at the similarly big house across the road with the girl who had waved to him before he had got here, a small grin on her face. Dele feels warm.

Eric gets up from his place, reaches over to place the cigarette in the ash tray and his sweater goes up and more milky skin is exposed.

‘’Are trousers out of fashion now?’’ Dele asks humourously.

‘’Yes.’’ Eric says immediately, smirking slightly.

‘’Why?’’

‘’Because I said so.’’ he replies, running a hand through his hair with a sense of finality. And it’s cocky but it’s not off-putting the way it had been before.

‘’What else is out of fashion?’’ Dele asks, tipping his head back, letting it rest on his shoulders.

‘’Your jumper.’’ Eric says after a while. ‘’You should get rid of it.’’

Dele snaps his head back up, not sure if it was meant in the way he thought it was- the way he wants it to be meant. ‘’Now?’’ he asks jerkedly.

‘’I was kidding.’’ Eric says, pulling his legs in, crossing his ankles. ‘’Unless you agree, of course.’’

Dele blinks at him before shaking his head with a laugh, trying to get back to his homework. He manages to get through the first two questions, ignores a text from Stacey about when he’ll be back, an email from UCAS demanding him to apply to universities before the deadline, ignores the world for a bit.

Eric closes the window and the draft stops coming in. There’s a bit of silence for a bit whilst Dele tries to concentrate, he doesn’t know if Eric’s also trying to get on with some work too or maybe even watching him or quietly thinking about things.

‘’Do you ever...pray?’’ Eric asks out of the blue, his tone oddly hesitant.

‘’Pray.’’ Dele repeats, raising his eyebrow.

‘’Yeah like..I never did it before but-I do sometimes now. At night randomly. Not on my knees or anything - just.’’ He trails off, his cheeks flushing.

Dele gets up, intrigued by the revelation and joins Eric on the bed, sitting just on the edge. ‘’What do you pray for?’’

‘’I just want my parents' souls to be in a good place. Even if they weren’t the best-they don’t deserve crap afterlives.’’

Dele is surprised because he can’t picture it, but then maybe he can becaue Eric’s obssesed with _Ave Maria_ , hums it when Maria serves them lunch or when he’s doing his work and he’s overplayed it on his violin since Diana’s funeral.

He makes a face. ‘’I don’t think I believe in God anymore.’’ he admitted, staring down the the white bedsheets, silky and soft and seamless.

‘’Anymore?’’ Eric picks up, glancing at him. The thing is Eric’s got a heavy gaze, dark blue eyes that weigh him down sometimes makes him talk before thinking.

‘’ My second - or third?- foster mum was Catholic. She made us say the rosary everyday. I was always eager to do it because I thought- I thought God would like me more if I did. ‘’ his tone drifted on the verge of bitterness slightly as he remembered days of him on his knees at two am, before dawn, holding a bunch of rosary beads with a hopeful heart. ‘’Turns out He didn’t give a fuck, really.’’

‘’Sounds like you still believe in Him, you just don’t like him a lot. And that’s okay.’’ He looks up at Eric who’s watching him carefully, his voice smooth and reassuring like honey.

‘’So..what, are you a saint now or something?’’ He said playfully.

Eric sniggered. ‘’Do I honestly look like a saint to you?’’

 _No_ , he thinks immediately. Eric looks like a sinner- a gorgous one- but a sinner nonetheless. ‘’If you kept your mouth shut, you’d have a chance. But other than that..’’

Eric whacks him with a pillow and Dele muffles a half yell.

‘’ _Jesus_.’’

‘’It’s Eric actually.’’

‘’Jesus, Eric.’’ Dele amends, even though it didn’t even hurt that much. ‘

’You’re saying that I’ve got a dirty mouth. So why do you always kiss me?’’ Eric raises his nose pointedly and Dele wrinkles his nose, struggling to hold down a laugh like a cough.

‘’Because its witchcraft. It’s like...like the pied piper. Except with a violin instead.’’

Eric snorts, throwing himself back against the bed. He sounded so fucking goofy. Dele smiled absentmindely, running a hand through Eric’s hair, it was practically begiing to be touched with how messy it was. ‘’Don’t ever dye your hair.’’ he says, the blonde suited him really well.

‘’I’ll do what I want, I’m the one who’s in control remember?’’ Eric responds with another smirk. But the truthness of that statement is under intense pressure because Dele's distinctly aware that he's got some level of control other Eric too because at some point the banter takes a differnt direction and Eric’s whispering against his lips that he wants to give him a blowjob.

"A blowjob?" Dele repeats.

"Yes." Eric deliberately slows down his speaking. "You know what that is right?"

Dele makes a face. "Its not that. Just-why?"

Eric raises an eyebrow, like he wasn't expecting it. "Because I'm...good at it." He answers, blinking up at Dele with a sceptical look.

"You want to give me a blowjob because you're good at it." Dele deadpans.

"Alright you're making me sound weird."

"I just dont like your reason behind it." He pauses, leaning back on the bed, against the headboard. "I want you to mean it."

"You want me to mean it." Eric repeats.

Dele nods. "Just say you mean it."

"Okay. Then, I mean it." Eric says, sitting up.

"Mean what?" Dele taunts playfully. It's not often Eric is the one who has to work hard.

"I want to suck you off not because I'm good at it but because, I just want to. Even though you have terrible fashion taste and you just compared me to the pied piper and your girlfriend is one of my friends...I just want to. If you want me to." He adds.

"Yeah," Dele nods shakily still processing his words.

The smell of smoke still lingered in the air from Eric, a heavy scent that itches at his nose. And when they kissed it was bitter and sinful because Eric's plump lips warmed against his own. Dele skin suddenly burned with the feeling and then Eric's hand was on his left thigh, the warmness seeping through. If he moves his hand a little right, he’d feel how much Dele wanted it, how there was a tent forming below, because he knew Eric wasn't wearing anything underneath his sweater, like he wanted to poison Dele's mind with the desire.

And then Eric's hand moved right. His blue eyes widened slightly, pausing mid-mid-kiss.

Dele felt his cheeks warm. "Sorry.." It was almost painful how attracted he was to Eric. 

Eric shook his head slightly, glancing down then back up. "No.. dont apologise. You dont need to do that." 

"Ok." Dele said, voice dripping to a whisper.

"Okay." Eric said, matching his volume. "Lie down, Del." He told him, hand palming him gently through his jeans.

Dele's eyelids flickered as he lay back and his stomach tensed.

"Are you nervous? Hasn't Ruby done this before?"

"She has." Dele says, sucking in a breath.

"So what's the issue?"

" _You're_ the issue." He clenched his jaw as Eric outlines his hard on with hands through the jeans. 

Eric doesn't respond as he slid down between his legs, pulling down Dele's jeans and boxers as he did so. "Marvel." Eric says with a little laugh, looking at the comic figures on the fabric.

"Stacey bought them." Dele defends himself quickly.

"Cute." Eric comments, his mouth finding Dele's lower stomach, the part at his navel, sucking at the skin until Dele curls his toes with the sweetness of the feeling. He has to look away at the sight of Eric's blonde hair falling in front of his face, bow shape lips doing whatever they wanted. Eric's teeth nips at the skin lightly, just enough to build the pressure in his stomach, he knows hes getting harder, tense with the want, with the feeling. 

Suddenly,staring at the ceiling, Dele wished that he were high right then. So he could freely drift in and out of consciousness, so he wouldn’t get too attached to this moment. As it stood, he was hyper aware of every action Eric took, every cold touch of his inner thigh that had him gulping hard. When he eventually looked down he found that Eric was staring up at him, his fist wrapped around Dele’s dick and his pink, plump lips circling around the head of his cock. Dele let out a breath shakily. It wasn’t the first time he had gotten a blowjob. But it was obviously different. It was _a boy down there._ It was Eric.

At the feeling of Eric’s hot tongue, Dele gasps and grips the bedsheets below him. He’d never admit it, but he’d had an inkling that Eric would be good with his mouth, from the moment he had first seen him, Dele had noticed Eric’s lips first. And now, they were on him, enveloping him, drowning him. He felt warm all over but hot below, scorching. Eric’s mouth was burning him alive. The same mouth that Eric used to make snarky comments with were wet and eager in that moment.

Dele wasn’t sure of the boundaries but Eric’s face was inches from his balls so he was sure they were past it by now. He carefully brushed his fingers through Eric’s hair, tugging it back until Eric groaned and the sound vibrated around him. He’d noticed when he’d put his hands in Eric’s hair eaarlier his eyes had fluttered- like it was something he enjoyed. 

Eric gets louder after that, moaning around Dele as he takes Dele further and further until the head of his dick is bumping against the back of his throat. He’d remembered learning about the uvula in science lessons in year ten, but he never thought he’d come into contact with it like this.

 _Oh fuck,_ Dele thinks, pulling instinctively on Eric’s hair to try to balance out the pleasure. Eric was so good at this. He wasn’t kidding about being a perfectionist.

Eric’s eyes are watering up but he holds it, until he pulls back completely, his mouth slicked up with spit and Dele’s pre-cum. He looks like a mess. A mess that Dele created.

‘’Eric.’’ Dele whispers, looking down at him with wide eyes.

Eric’s cheeks are flushed, his eyelashes wet and dewey. ‘’Yeah?’’ he replied, voice sounding sore.

‘’I don’t know how long-’’ He barely had a second to catch his breath before Eric’s lips were wrapped around him once more, cheeks hollowing the way they had done earlier around the cigaratte, breathing heavily though his nose. 

''Eric.'' Dele breathes out again, trying to give him some kind of warning, to tell him that he’s close to the edge, close to falling right off of it.

It's the pent up emotions inside of him; the underlying feeling of anxiety he carried everywhere alongside the blatant lust, the feeling of Eric ‘s tongue dragging across the underside of his cock, his hand around his balls and the base of his cock that leaves him coming down Eric’s throat, his body shaking from the sensation, his stomach twisting as he groans into the quiet air of Eric’s bedroom.

Eric works him through it until Dele tugs at his hair harshly, forcing Eric to pull away because he’s sucking him dry. He watches as the blonde boy wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and looks up at Dele, his eyelids hooded and heavy, as he allows Dele to openly stare at him, his lips sore with how hard he kept biting on them. Eric had swallowed it all no questions asked.

Dele’s eyes flicked towards the evidence on his stomach, the wetness of spit, some cum that had dripped down from Eric’s lips, the dents on his upper thigh from where Eric’s nails had pressed in for leverage. Yep, that just happened.

Eric climbs onto the bed, alongside him, pulls the duvet around him for warmth not caring about the mess seemingly. Dele turned his body slightly, changed the angle so they were facing each other. Eric’s eyes were dilluted was the first thing he noticed, the black edging out the blue for once as he stared into Dele’s soul. Dele didn’t shy away, he wanted Eric to stare, he realised he enjoyed it, to know that Eric was watching him like that, thinking about him in his head.

‘’Look what you did to me.’’ Dele says wryly, shaking his head.

Eric allows himself to smile a bit, but it doesn’t reach his eyes, like he’s sort of distracted, thinking aboutsomething else. ‘’Valentine’s day is next week.’’ Eric says randomly.

‘’It is?’’ Dele says, not even remembering.

‘’Yeah. I’m surprised you don’t remember. What are you getting Ruby?’'

Dele frowned slightly at the mention of her name and the direction the conversation was now heading in. ‘’What?’’ was all he could manage.

‘’Your girlfriend- what do you plan on getting her?’’

‘’Why are we talking about her?’’ he asks guiltily.

‘’Because you’re cheating.’’ Eric says simply.

‘’Oh and you’re-an innocent bystander?’’ Dele replies sarcastically, annoyed that Eric decided to ruin the mood.

‘’I’m not the one in a relationship.’’ Eric says and Dele’s eyebrows shoot up.

‘’ _What_?’’ he says again, feeling behind as always. ‘’Are we going to pretend that John Stones doesn’t exist?’’

A pause. ‘’I broke up with him.’’

‘’What?’’

Eric pinches his cheek gently. ‘’Expand your vocabulary a bit.’’

‘’How?’’ Dele amends.

‘’He’s not who I wanted him to be.’’ Eric shrugs, not meeeting his eyes.

‘’Who did you want him to be?’’

‘’Something else.’’ Eric says vaguely, grabbing one of the more fluffier pillows and stuffing it under his head. ‘’Is Ruby who you want her to be?’’

No, Dele thinks. But he says something else instead. ‘’You don’t have the moral high ground, you know. Because yeah-I’m a piece of shit for cheating but you’re not any better. Even if you’re single. You still wanted to give her boyfriend a blowjob-you’re just as fucked up as me.’’

Eric blinks at him, the truth hitting him cold hard in the face. He's surprised by his own outburst and he senses the tension in the room.

‘’I can leave if you want me to. Maria can open the door for me, I know she's somewhere downstairs-’’

‘’Stay.’’ Eric says, interrupting him. ‘’I’m sorry, I just feel-guilty about it.’’

Dele nods. ‘’So do I.’’ he wets his parched lips. ‘’But I don’t regret it.’’ _Not even for a second._

‘’Neither do I.’’ Eric moved closer towards him, their ankles and elbows touching.

Dele stares up at the ceiling again, shoulders still tight with tension but Eric stares at him. ‘’What would you do if your parents showed up?’’ he asks randomly.

‘’What?’’ Dele says, confused, glancing at him.

Eric looks dead serious. ‘’If they just turned up.If they wanted you back. Would you go with them?'' 

‘’No.’’ Dele says instinctively. ‘’I wouldn’t. I’ve survived this long by myself so…’’

Eric hums at his answer. ‘’You know, you’re not a coward, Dele.’’

Dele raises an eyebrow at him.

‘’You’ve called yourself a coward before but- you’re not. I don’t think _I_ could be in the care system. I’d probably go mad.’’

‘’Yeah that _and_ your violin would definitely get stolen.’’ Dele adds, watching Eric snort out a laugh. Dele laughs with him, shaking his head. 

++ 

Dele sneaks out from the mathsdepartment building, poking his head out of the shadows to get a good glimpse of the library where the pride book collectionevent Marcus had informed him abotu was being held. It looked empty from what he could tell with the exception of a couple of staff and students.

Raheem and Jordan had been mocking the damn event throughout P.E, a long running joke between them. Everyone in the locker rooms had agreed but Dele and Marcus had remained silent. Didn’t Raheem ever get tired of his own gay jokes? Didn’t _his_ friends get sick of it? He’d been telling them since year twelve. Why was the topic so recycled? It wasn’t even funny- it was _sad._

The issue with the library was that it was the focal point of the school, the closest piece of _ancient history_ the headteacher Mr Stanley could brag about- it was in the midst of the school’s courtyard where all of the kids flocked to after lunch to gossip and fight and play uno and finish last pieces of homework over and over again like extras being asked to repeat scenes in a movie. 

His hand gripped the strap of his backpack. He didn’t have to do this. He could just go hang in the common room or look for Ruby or even leave because he had a free last period. It would be the easier option. But really, Dele had been taking easy options for the duration of his seventeen years. _All_ he had to do was walk across the courtyard and inside the library.

‘’What’s up?’’ Adaobi was beside him suddenly, scaring the shit out of him.

Dele jumped and took a couple steps back. ‘’ _Fucking hell.’’_ he swore. 

Adaobi looked him up and down, her gold hoops sparkling in the daylight. ‘’Why are you hiding here?’’ she questioned.

‘’ _Not_ hiding.’’ Dele said potently.

Adaobi raised an eyebrow. ‘’ _Definitely hiding.’’_ she insisted, gesturing to his place within the shadows.

So maybe she had the slightest of points. He sighed and glanced around, looking for signs of Octavia or Tobi or Paul. ‘’No sign of your cronies.’’

She cleared her throat, and glanced down at her black loafers. ‘’Actually, I wanted to apologise for what we said before... You shouldn’t have to choose any side- black or white- that was stupid. Dele, you’re valid enough by just being you..so.’’ She trailed off and shrugged then met his gaze.

‘’Oh right.’’ Dele said, surprised. ‘’Apology accepted.’’ he shrugged back and she smiled suddenly.

‘’I forgot how awkward you were. Remember in English lessons when I had to force you to speak? _God_ , those were the days.’’

Dele smiled, of course remembering. ‘’Yeah. _Yeah_.’’

She seemed to notice or feel his underlying tension so changed topic. ‘’Well I’ll see you around I guess.’’ She smiled at him before heading towards the canteen.

Then Dele had an idea. ‘’Wait,’’ he said loudly, catching up with her.

She paused, her hands finding warmth inside her school blazer.

‘’Would you walk with me to the library?’’ he asked carefully.

‘’Walk with you to the library..’’ Adaobi repeated, glancing confusedly at the building and then she got it, he saw the exact moment it clicked when she worked it all out. She glanced back at him, searching his face. ‘’Dele- _of course_ , yeah. C’mon.’’

She grabbed his arm comfortably and they walked together through the courtyard. And no one cared. No one looked away from their homework, no one was distracted from their groups gossip, no one looked in their direction, no one cared, no one gave a fuck. _No one looked, no one looked._

Adaobi even walked with him _inside_ and the interior had been transformed into shades of blue and green and pink and yellow. The two librarians donned rainbow coloured afros and pink lipstick, their faces lighting up when they saw Dele. The other people were two students from year twelve, a boy and a girl flamboyant in nature whom he’d seen in the corridors bold in the multiple faces of adversity. And the other was Marcus, of course, sorting out a couple of books, glancing up at Dele with half a smile.

‘’This is lovely,’’ Adaobi commented, glancing around. ‘’You guys did a great job.’’ she said towards the librarians.

Mrs Levi waved a hand. ‘’Nah, Marcus is the mastermind behind all of this.'' 

Marcus visibly flushed, shaking his head bashfully. ‘’They helped to purchase the collection, made sure that our budget was okay.''

‘’Don’t undersell yourself.’’ Adaobi said kindly but firmly. She turned to Dele and gave him a quick hug. _You’re so brave,_ her squeeze told him and then she disappeared into the wind.

Dele felt like crying. He wanted Eric to see this. _See I’m not scared, I'm here, I can do this, I can allow myself to do this, I can allow myself to like you freely._

Mrs Levi shocks them all by playing _Good Times by Chic_ from her Ipod, loud enough so they can hear from inside but not loud enough so people outside would become too curious. The girl from year twelve throws her head back and dances, her pink pixie haircut clashing with their green uniform. _Don’t be a drag, participate_.

Dele wonders around, having a look at the books on offer, he doesn’t know what he’s expecting. He saw the front cover of Pride and Prejudice and frowned. He didn’t remember anything distinctly gay happening in the book but maybe he was thinking too narrowly. He got out his phone and sent a quick snap of the book to Eric coupled with a few question marks.

There were some poems laid out neatly on tables and Dele has no doubt that Marcus had a hand in this. Adaobi was right, he was definitely underselling himself. The music was so seventies but so lovely all the same. He could imagine Eric dancing to it the way he had at Kate’s party, eyes bright and hair messy. _Glitter in my wounds,_ was the name of one of the poems, its title alone enough to get him to pause. 

_you think Oscar Wilde was funny?_

_well Darling I think he was busy_

_distracting straight people_

_so they would not kill him_

‘’That's my favourite poem.’’ Marcus said, walking towards him. He looked happier and more comfortable than Dele had ever seen him before. This was his element. ‘’I mean have you ever thought about Oscar Wilde like that?'' he says, as if Dele is a literary intellectual.

‘’Er- I don’t think about Oscar Wilde..like ever.’’

Marcus laughs, white teeth on show. His hand drifts towards the book on the other side of the table. ‘’One thing I noticed is that LGBTQ collections are really _white_. I had to look really hard for this. Its based in Nigeria.’’ He held a copy of Under the Udala trees, brushing his hands over the cover like it was something precious. ‘’It's good to have a different perspective.’’

Dele took the book from him, glancing at the summary, the name Ijeoma leaping out at him. It was nice to see a name that was different. Marcus was so dedicated to this. The librarians bumped their shoulders and hummed as they cleaned up as the end of lunch drew near.

‘’Do you like boys?’’ Dele asked him, eyes still trained down on the black, green and orange colours on the cover.

‘’I do, yeah. But gender is not really important. I just like nice people.’’

‘’Not too many of them here.’’ Dele said with a laugh.

Marcus laughed in agreement. ‘’Yeah.’’ he paused. ‘’Do ...you like boys?’’

‘’Yeah. One boy in particular.’’ he admitted.

He waited for Marcus to ask about Ruby but Marcus spared him, thank God. ‘’Cool,’’ Marcus said with a shrug before nodding his head to the music playing from Mrs Lexi’s ipod like Dele hadn’t just told him something groundbreaking. The normalcy of the reaction was appreciated.

++

The H. Samuel’s in Shepherd's Bush wouldn't stop playing _the 1975 (_ he'd overheard the name from some shoppers tittering happily as the lead singer crooned through the store's speakers) persistently demanding that they should be _loving someone_.

He'd trudged all the way across the city because the H. Samuel at Stratford was temporarily shut after some teenagers had broken in after hours. Jesse had sent him off with a pat on the back and a twenty pound note in his pocket to get Stacey a birthday gift for her 38th.

‘’What exactly am I buying?’’ Dele had queried, frowning. He would have preferred Jesse to do the deed as he had better taste but Jesse was apparently _drowning_ in homework.

‘’Surprise me.’’ Jesse had answered with a flourish before shutting the door on his face.

Dele had just finished having a look at the half price earrings on display when he heard Eric’s familiar voice. He spun instantly, an easy smile on his face which paused as he saw Harry right behind him.

They looked like a couple of rich kids who had stumbled into the wrong store. Eric’s black bomber jacket brushed against Harry’s white one as they stood closely, staring at a set of Tommy Hilfiger bracelets and a sudden unfounded feeling of jealousy came over him. Even though he knew Harry loved Kate, he could never picture himself right there next to Eric, eyes flitting across items in a shop, knowing you had the ability to buy it all or nothing at all if they really wanted to.

Dele stumbled backwards- behind the stall stacked with a bunch of gift cards-so he was hidden from view but still close enough so he could hear them. It granted him a strange look from the big security man at the door.

‘’Ruby wants to go to Exeter next year.’’ Dele overheard Harry saying to Eric. ‘’Thats where Kate’s planning on going as well. They'll have each other next year at uni.'' He sounded serious, tone somber. Talking about the future, about university, tended to bring about that feeling.

‘’Get a grip, Harry.’’ Eric said,wrinkling his nose. ‘’You and Kate will both be fine. We’ll all be- _Fine. Happy._ ’’

Harry scoffed slightly. ‘’Easy for you to say. People love you Eric. I have to work a little bit harder to get friends.’’

He’d never really thought about it but out of the group, Harry was probably the most low-key of them all. Kate was loved because of her friendly and bubbly personality, Eric was adored because he breathed musical genius, John was a stellar actor and Ruby was beautiful and charming. Harry didn’t have it going on for him the way the rest of them did.

Eric looked at Harry like he didn’t know quite how to respond, like he was unsure of what to say. Then he reached out to grab one of the bracelets, running his fingers over it like it was made of gold. ‘’I’ll be on my own at Oxford, you know.''

''Isn't that what you want though?''

''I guess.'' he shrugged and placed the bracelet back. ‘’I bought that one last year. Let’s look somewhere else.’’ he turned on his black vans, switching directions.

Dele had seen him only last week when he’d been on his knees, lips stretched around his cock as he had stared up at Dele. And now there he was, you wouldn’t be able to tell that he could be so sexual at first glance. He looked unassuming, casually rich and academic.

‘’Why do you always force me to shop with you?’’ Harry complained as Eric eyed some silver chains.

‘’Force is a _really_ strong word.’’ he said pointedly, grinning at Harry. His grin was gorgeous, especially right then. And even though Adaobi had called _him_ brave, Eric was exactly the same. Because his mother's death still hurt him, but he still got on with life. He was so caught up in his reverie, he didn’t notice the security guard practically breathing down his neck, a scowl crossing the man’ tanned features.

‘’Excuse me, _sir._ ‘’ The latter word added sarcastically because Dele in his tattered black jeans definitely wasn’t _worthy_ of such a title. ‘’But if you don’t plan on actually _purchasing_ anything, then I kindly want to ask you to leave.’’ his stern voice overpowered the smatters of conversation in the store as the lavish consumers were suddenly intrigued by their interaction- including Eric and Harry.

Harry broke out into a smile. ‘’Dele!’’ he boomed, striding forward, to clap him on his back.

Dele smiled back sheepishly, embarrassed by his fleeting feeling of jealousy towards Harry. Harry wasn’t like that. He was dating _Kate_ , a girl who could spot a bad egg from a mile away. Harry stepped back to take a look at him, blue eyes lighting up.

The other pair of blue eyes glinted at him. Him and Eric were really good at the staring thing now-masters at non-verbal communication. So that's why Eric didn’t need to say anything to say hello to Dele because his eyes said it all for him. Dele nodded at Eric and then remembered the security guard still scrutinising him.

‘’Er-Harry.’’ the man stuttered. _Of course he knew who they were, they were probably regulars._ Dele imagined Eric walking in every weekend, hair perfectly styled, posture straight, demanding the usual of Rolex watches, Tommy Hilfiger bracelets and Gucci silver chains.

‘’You know him?’’ and as much as the security guard tried, the disbelief was very much evident in his voice.

‘’He’s with us.’’ Eric said cooly, giving the man a disapproving look.

‘’Right-Right.’’ the man took a step back, and looked sheepishly at Dele. Dele smirked at him. The man clenched his jaw. ‘’In that case, I apologise.’’ He said through gritted teeth.

‘’Apology accepted.’’ Dele said, overtly obnoxious and the man was left with no choice but to slink back to his rightful place at the entrance.

‘’What brings you here, Del?’’ Harry asked brighty.

As upbeat as he was, Dele was acutely aware that just minutes ago he’d been having a heartfelt conversation with Eric and feeling down; it was amazing how they were both able to switch it on when they needed to; adapting like chameleons. His eyes flitted behind Dele towards the gold carat earrings hung alluringly on a peg? ‘’Earrings for Ruby?’’ he guessed.

‘’Er-no, actually.’’ Dele corrected. ‘’I’m getting a birthday gift for my..’’ he paused and a look of understanding graced Eric’s face. ‘’My mum.’’ he finished, still not completely comfortable for Harry to know he was in a foster home.

‘’Oh that’s great.’’ Harry replied, ‘’My mum is such a hard person to shop for. She’s got every collection _McQueen_ ever put out and then when she got pregnant she just wanted me to buy her endless amounts of rings so she could track whether her fingers were getting fatter or not.’’

‘’Sounds a bit much.’’ Dele said, hesitantly, not sure how okay it was for him to roast Harry’s mum.

‘’She’s a nightmare.’’ Harry agreed. ‘’What’s your mum like, then?’’ he asked sincerely.

‘’ _Harry_.’’ Eric said firmly but quietly, his hand finding Harry’s arm. A look was shared between them and then Harry switched topics with such ease. Dele was grateful.

‘’What sort of stuff, does she like?’’ He asked instead.

Dele smiled at that. ‘’I’ve been trying to work that out. I don’t want to waste money on something she doesn’t even want. I know she's a big fan of necklaces but..’’ he shrugged.

‘’You don’t have to waste your money.’’ Eric said.

‘’We’ll waste ours instead.’’ Harry nodded in agreement. ‘’We weren’t going to buy anything valuable anyways.’’

‘’Guys.’’ Dele said, embarrassment overwhelming him, his cheeks flushing. ‘’I’m not..I’m not a charity okay?’’

‘’Nobody said you were, Del. We’re not thinking of it like that.’’ Eric countered, setting a fixed stare on him. _Let us do this._

Dele frowned and looked down at his feet. Yes it would be a struggle to get something nice in this store with only twenty quid, but it still didn’t push him with open arms towards the idea of Eric and Harry bringing out their various credit cards.

He saw a pair of black vans on the floor and glanced up, Eric was so close to him now, had rounded in on him, had made the world, just them two, for a moment. Their noses were inches apart. Dele blinked at him, suddenly wanting to go to Eric’s room, watch the blonde get high and then have deep chats about religion and death and sadness and then kiss and then get intimate, maybe Dele would go on his knees this time, then after Eric would smoke a joint and play the violin and Eric would convince him that everything was going to be okay and Dele would tell him more about the Pride Collection event in the library, would convince Eric to listen to Good Times and then they’d repeat it all until they grew tired of each other.

‘’We’re your _friends_ , Dele. This isn’t a burden, I promise.’’ and then he added more quietly. ‘’And my throat hurt throughout last week so you owe me, big boy.’’

Dele snorted loudly, hands flying up to cover his face. He was absolutely _scandalised_ , Eric was smirking at him now, knowing that he had won.

Eric and Harry moved around H. Samuel with a practiced sort of ease that could only come from engaging with conspicuous consumption on a regular basis. Eric gathered all the gold bracelets he could muster, so many that one of the store’s assistants scrambled to find him a bag and followed him around like a pet whilst Harry did the same with all the silver bracelets he could discover and together the two of them ran around the store like they were shopping for candy.

Dele watched them both with mirth, and then grinned delightfully when he caught the security guard scowling at him. The other shoppers gave the three of them strange looks, mostly confused as to what was going on. The speakers were playing Taylor Swift, bubblegum pop, songs that were safe. He wondered for a brief moment if they’d ever play drill music in a place like this. It would probably scare everyone off.

Theyeventually left the store with two packed bags which had taken ages for the cashier to pack but then she’d refrained from complaining when Eric didn’t ask for the change back. Despite it all, he enjoyed it, that feeling of weightlessness again. And now he had a shitload of stuff to give Stacey and then some. He was planning on giving some to the homeless people in his neighbourhood, they could sell it , make enough money for the week at least.

Eric touched the back of his neck to get his attention before he left and Dele practically preened. Harry was on the phone to Kate and was turned away from them.

‘’Was that okay?’’ he asked, carefully.

‘’It was more than okay, Eric.’’ Dele responded and Eric smiled.

‘’Do you wanna hang out tomorrow? Like after school, we could just..chill.’’

Dele nodded. He sort of liked that chilling was code for intense conversations featuring kisses and Maria's bad timing with opening Eric's bedroom door. 

‘’I like chilling, so.’’

Eric nodded back in amusement. ‘’So meet me after school yeah? The gates at St. Andrews.’’ 

++

Dele arrived too early. 

He'd left at lunch because he had a free period last.

Kyle had caught him on the way out, giving him a scrutinizing gaze. ‘’Oi, where are you off to?’’ he’d demanded.

‘’To find my mum and dad.’’ he’d mocked before darting off. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to drop that topic between them. He still couldn’t get his mind around it. And maybe, _maybe_ there was the teeniest tiniest part of him that was slightly, but only slightly- envious. Kyle's relationship with his parents seemed to be going from strength to strength, each time he’d come back with a new story to tell, something else his dad had taught him, a memory that his mum had shared and Dele’s initial feeling of resentment had drifted to a territory of wanting the same for himself. He didn’t have the courage to try searching like Kyle did. The prospect of disappointment was too much.

The bell rang in the distance just then and kids in navy blue uniforms and crisp shirts began to stroll out of their classrooms, languidly of course, because they had all the time and money in the world. He was surrounded by estate cars, piloted by parents or drivers waiting patiently to deliver the precious children back to their homes.

There was a girl that resembled Ruby, her hips swaying as she walked towards the gates, her skirt rolled up high,she was surrounded by adoring girls who hung onto her every word, a picture of porcelain and shiny hair. It was funny to think that that was Ruby once.

His eyes searched for Eric in the crowd, suddenly wanting him to appear immediately so they could get out of here. He was getting weird looks, stares, like when he’d arrived at Eric’s birthday party. _What's he doing here?_ And his bottlegreen God awful, ghastly uniform did not make things any easier to _blend in_.

He began to kick his kickers into the ground, out of nervousness. The weather was cool, a sweet February breeze. He wished it would rain out of nowhere so they’d all sprint to shelter, so they’d all stop staring at him. Was it because they just didn’t know who he was? Or was it because they were all judging him? The way his hair curled imperfectly on top of his head, the ratty backpack parked slung round his shoulders, his lint ridden blazer.

He brought out his phone to give Eric a call, scrolling through his contacts hurriedly. He needed to at least look busy. It would be easy; he’d call Eric, Eric would get his ass over here, they’d go to Eric’s house and it all would be fine. Except, of course, John Stones.

The brunette strode out of the main building, the blonde who he remembered as Eriken and the Asian he remembered as Sonny behind him. John walked confidently, flashing a tight smile at some of his peers who attempted to chat with him. In a way, Dele could see why Eric had fallen in love with him, John seemed so self-assured and confident, like he had the answers to everything in the universe.

John spotted him moments later and Dele swore his steps faltered slightly. Only slightly. John gave him a cold look that radiated across the distance between them. Dele stared back, already knowing what was coming.

John crossed the distance of the school courtyard, passed the gates and was suddenly in front of him, right there, an arms length away, his cronies behind him.

‘’ _Dele_ , right?’’ Sonny said, pronouncing his name the way he had done the first time, more bite to it this time. He flicked his glossy black hair back from his tanned face and gave Dele a onceover.

‘’Are you lost?’’ John asked potently. His eyes were hard. And Dele understood why. He’d lost Eric to _Dele_ of all people. He was insulted and disgusted and confused.

‘’I’m waiting for Eric, actually.’’ Dele replied deliberately slow, knowing it would irk the brunette. John hummed.

‘’Darling, Eric.’’ he said with a sinister smirk. ‘’So lovely isn’t he? He’ll do anything you ask, you know.Loads of tricks up his sleeve. He’ll play the violin naked or let you deepthroat him on a Sunday morning..’’ his voice sounded whimsical, remembering his and Eric’s moment with a smile.

It annoyed him that Eric had even been with someone like John. John was speaking about him as if he were a circus act, who only performed, who was made to please and it was disgusting.

John seemed delighted at his lack of a response. ‘’You don’t seem surprised, Dele. Do you agree?’’

 _What a time to finally say his name correctly._ ‘’You’re not worth speaking to.’’ Dele said, looking past him, searching for blonde hair in the crowd.

‘’Don’t think you'll keep him, though.’’ John continues, powering on. ‘’Eric’s easy to win over. Just hand him a bottle of Chardonnay and praise his violin skills and well..you know the rest don’t you Dele?’’

He shoved John without thinking of the consequences. He’d wanted to stand there and take it, determined not to be that angry brown boy, determined not to replicate the stereotypes in the media but John had pushed all the right buttons and Dele was officially triggered.

John had stumbled backwards into Eriksen who had steadied him. He looked surprised but then schooled his features very quickly. ‘’At last. Showing your true colours. I knew your innocent act was all bullshit.’’

‘’ _Shut the fuck up._ ’’ Dele hissed, spit flying through his teeth. ‘’You don’t know the first thing about me- _anything_ about me.’’

‘’But I know that you’re type is blonde little rich boys with mummy and daddy issues. Bonus points for the way Eric can suck a cock right? He’s pretty skilled at it.’’

Dele shoved John again but this time he was ready for it and shoved Dele back. Dele resorted to guerilla war, lashing out at any bit of John he could reach which happened to be his blazer, then his tie, the collar of his shirt. John wasn’t really fighting back. Why wasn’t he fighting back?

He took a look at John’s smirking face. This was what he wanted. _Exactly what he wanted._ Dele froze in his spot and came back down to earth, noticing that there was a crowd gathered around them, looking at him in horror. He was the bad guy here. How had John done that? They probably hadn’t even heard what was said, just seen Dele provoking a fight. It looked like Dele was the troublemaker. But he’d been trying to keep the peace in the first place. How had John done that?

The students had formed a semi circle around them, scrutinising him openly like he had just landed from mars. He spotted Eric leaving the School building just then, shirt elegantly on, holding his violin case; the exact moment he spotted the scene, lips parted and blue eyes staring at the scene curiously. Eric couldn't see him through the crowd.

"Aren't you going to apologise?" John asked, pulling him back into the moment.

Dele swallowed hard, refusing to answer, watching Eric come towards them, walking across the schoolyard, black shoes glinting with polish. He saw Dele a moment later after he'd made his way through the crowd.

Dele waved his hand slightly and Eric waved back, nose wrinkling with the effort of trying not to smile.

‘’Eric, who’s this!?’ one of the girls in the semi circle says loudly, her black hair reaches her waist, her eyeliner dark to match.

"Do you know him?!" someone else calls out. 

Eric is their king and they are waiting for his approval of the newcomer with bated breath.

"He's with me." Eric tells them finally, gesturing for Dele to follow him, to walk home with him.

Theres a stunned sort of shock as Dele falls into line with Eric and Eric ignores them all even when they call after him with curiosity, long for him to talk to them- he ignores them all. 

"Took you long enough." Dele says, when they're away from the crowd.

"You came earlier than I expected."

"Couldn't help myself." Dele says, with a shrug.

"What the fuck happened back there?"

"Long story." Dele replied, making a face. ‘’I’ll tell you over dinner. What’s Maria got planned?’’

‘’Noodles.’’ Eric says, smiling politely at an old lady who recognises him - ‘’The violin boy!’’- and after she's done showering him with compliments they continue walking on down the pavement.

‘’You’re basically a celebrity. I guess I should feel honoured to even walk alongside you.’’ Dele says with a snigger, bowing dramatically.

‘’Stop.’’ Eric says, nudging him upwards with a laugh.

And all Dele could think about was Eric claiming him in front of all his snotty classmates, as easy as anything, no questions asked just a simple ''He's with me.'' 

_He’s with me, he’s with me, he’s with me._


	11. Tell Him

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Secrets, secrets everywhere.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> first of all, i'm am so glad i am FINALLY updating! If I'm honest i lost a little bit of motivation and my country was really going through it during the pandemic and i just couldn't find the strength to keep writing but recently I have found comfort in doing so and will finish this story. Thank you for having a lot of patience, i hope the update is somewhat worth it xx
> 
> Also spurs > arsenal and that was a lovely match which i enjoyed so so much.

Even though it shouldn’t come as a surprise, Dele still freezes when John shows up to Kate’s house at half past seven. 

Even though Eric broke up with John, he’s technically still friends with the rest of them even though Dele tends to forget this a lot. Regardless, the truth stands in front of him and the late February breeze lingers on John's beige fur coat, his scarf, tangles itself in his hair and buries itself underneath his white skin. His blue eyes are cold like ice and Dele already knows whats coming. 

Ruby has one hand in his hair as they’re sat in the living room, the brown rug brushing against the material of their clothes. She’s massaging his scalp, the other hand holding her OCR Sociology textbook - the Marx and Engels chapter- and Dele had been sitting there beside her thinking of how he planned on saying it- how he was going to break up with her. But John seemingly had other plans, the way his jaw was set was telling, his blue eyes cool as they glanced around the room and made eye contact with Dele.

‘’It’s getting late.’’ Dele blurted, words so rushed they morphed into a stumbling sentence. ‘’Think we should head out?’’ 

Ruby raised an eyebrow at him, clearly very comfortably seated. Her hair was growing out again, it was past her shoulders now, all silky and smooth. ‘’It’s not that late.’’ she said, eyes drifting back to Marx’s ideas illustrated in a clear diagram. ‘’Besides, Kate promised she’d do a good roast dinner. ‘’ 

Kate made a sound of approval from the kitchen, bustling around, here and there, acting like a mother hen towards them all. She assumed the role naturally and was comfortable with being in charge. In response, Dele’s shoulders sank, because he knew what was coming and how bitter John remained over the school incident. But still, they stayed. 

Some time later, Eric made his way inside from the back garden, closing the doors behind him gently, keeping the cold away. He had gone for a quick smoke break which had dragged on for longer, to pollute his lungs for a little while, the way he did so often. It was how he kept himself sane apparently, but it was obvious that he was an addict; plain and simple. As much as it irked Dele, he never pushed Eric away when he leaned in for a kiss, even when he could taste the nicotine, even when the smell clinged to Eric’s t-shirts sometimes. 

Honestly, he questioned how much he could claim the moral high ground when _he_ was the one cheating on his girlfriend and lying to S tacey about where he spent all his free time outside of school. He couldn’t feign disgust at Eric’s habits for long enough, especially when Eric would shut him up with a handjob or say something sickeningly sweet with those lips of his until Dele forgot. He should have known by now that Eric was good at distractions. He was distracting himself from the lingering grief he still felt about his mother and distracting Dele from noticing this. 

Eric glanced at him, gave him a small smile, a small quirk of his lips upwards. Dele smiled back. Small. Small and yet so big- significant somehow. A room filled with ornate objects and delicate wine glasses yet it was that stupid smile that gave him goosebumps. 

Later, they conversed at the dining table.  Kate’s mum seemed to own a shitton of alcohol because all the bottles were out on display, ready for the taking. 

‘’Dionysus is long dead.’’ Harry had smirked, swirling his glass carefully. ‘’Kate’s the god of wine now.’’ 

And they had all titterred, Ruby’s laugh carefree, Eric’s more of a scoff and John a low chuckle.

Dele couldn’t join though. He was tense. John had been eyeing him all night and Dele was just waiting for him to drop the bomb.

‘’ _Ruby, your boyfriend’s got a thing for Eric._ ’’ 

‘’ _Ruby, your boyfriend is gay_.’’

‘’ _Ruby, your boyfriend's been lying to you. Cheating on you. He doesn’t love you like that. You’ve been fooled._ ’’

‘’ _Ruby, you’ve been-_ ’’ 

‘’This is lovely, Kate.’’ Ruby said approvingly, after a mouthful of the whole grained pasta Kate was recently obsessed with, red lips stretched into a smile. ‘’Feels more like a feast, actually. A banquet, even.’’

‘’That’s because I thought Eriksen would show up.’’ Kate said with a shrug, popping a green grape into her mouth too preoccupied to notice the way Ruby’s smile froze on her face. Dele noticed though and made a face. It wasn't the first time Ruby got weird around the mention of Eriksen. 

‘’Who needs a chef, when you could cook yourself.’’ Kate added, another shrug-very casual. It was a subtle but very obvious dig at Eric, they could all tell.

Harry and Kate were hd been at school when Dele and John’s bust up had happened. They had heard it all and probably come to their own conclusions. Dele thought they were annoyed at Eric which would make sense why they had been standoffish with him all night. The power dynamics were fascinating to him beause it often felt like Kate and Harry dotted on Eric, constantly praising him but they could switch whenever they wanted to and it was like Eric’s ego shrunk in on itself. Their conversation at Kate’s party was starting to make a bit more sense, that Eric felt he faded if he didn’t receive any compliments, that his whole existence was seemingly based upon this. It would explain why he’d been so subdued that night. 

Kate was probably convinced that Eric had manipulated Dele, in true pied piper fashion. That Eric had somehow _made_ Dele cheat- that it was all Eric’s fault. They backed Ruby in this tug of war but they hadn’t even told her yet. No one had told her yet. They were sat at this grand table, on a Friday evening with the moon shining, its light mocking them when their secrets were so dark, when their secrets were forming its own shadows. 

In response, Eric bites down on his plump bottom lip, probably bites his words down. The tension is reeking off the table. John is staring at Eric intently whilst he gobbles his food, eyes bouncing between Eric, Ruby and Dele. Eric is nervous, Dele can tell. His eyes are down on his food, probably a bit put off by John. Because John still has that magnetic power. They all know Eric and John are no longer together but no one mentions it- like an unspoken rule, like the ugly elephant in the room. They’re all fucking around and playing pretend. In so many ways. 

‘’Well I find that chefs make _excellent_ __bu_ ddies _ .’’ John asserts after the pause, leaning back in his chair. Harry rolls his eyes and reaches for his glass of water- half empty already. ‘’Eric, do you remember Ben? Remember the fun we had with him?’’ he smirks, and the word fun takes on a whole new different meaning. 

Eric squeezes his eyes shut and bites his lips again. Bites down harder. Sometimes it's hard to forget that Eric and John have so much history together. Eric loved him. How does Dele know that he ever stopped? 

‘’Guess it wasn’t that important to Eric.’’ Dele eventually said with a shrug, feeling the need to speak up. ‘’Probably a bigger memory for you.’’ 

John’s eyes flicked towards his. ‘’You love defending him don’t you?’’ he says but it's not a question. It's a realisation. Its the build up. Its a change in tone. Its the start of the attack. The assault thats coming.

‘’He’s my friend.’’ Dele says carefully, accidentally kicking the leg of the mahogany brown table. Their glasses of wine and water shimmer and wobble slightly. Ruby places a hand on his thigh, her warmth apparent even through his jeans.

‘’ _ Friend? _ ’’ John repeats with a grin, blue eyes sparkling now. ‘’Is that what it’s called now?’’

‘’Shut the fuck up.’’ Eric says out of nowhere, he’s not closed his eyes anymore, he’s glaring at John. ‘’I’m surprised you had time to join us. Isn’t Eriken supposed to be sucking your dick or something?’’ 

‘’All of you need to chill the fuck out.’’ Ruby says finally, her hand rubbing lightly against Dele’s thigh. ‘’What’s wrong with you? We’re all friends here.’Kate takes a passive aggressive stance in placing her fork down on the table. ‘’Clearly not everyone got the memo.’’ She retorts pointedly, staring openly at Eric who’s staring at John who’s staring at Dele who’s staring at the table.

Then the sound of the front door opening graces them.  An unexpected relief, a distraction and the tension breaks for a moment. For just a moment.

‘’Your mum?’’ Harry questions Kate, wrinkling his nose. ‘’What's she doing back so early?’’

Kate shrugs, playing with her hair then shrugging again. ‘’She usually stays overnight with…’’ she trails off almost embarrassed at her mum’s hedonistic sexual activity. 

‘’With all her one night stands?’’ John finishes, no stranger to insensitivity. 

The sound of heels in the hallway, clicking silently. ‘’Kate?’’ she calls out, the slur apparent in her voice. 

‘’She’s drunk for fucks _sake_.’’ Kate whispers.

‘’Kate?’’ she calls out again.

‘’In here!’’ Kate says sighing and getting to her feet. 

Kate’s mum appears at the doorway, an older version of Kate of course. Her blonde hair blonder somehow like she’d gotten it freshly dyed since Dele last saw her at Diana’s funeral. Her eyeliner is smudged, lipstick stained, she’s fidgeting with the hem of her short purple dress, wobbling on her heels. 

‘’Kate, help me wit me heels, dear.’’ She mumbles, holding onto the door handle for support. 

Kate sighs again but obliges.

They’re all quietly staring. And the moment is weird. It’s weird and awkward. 

Eric is looking at him, eyes darker, his jaw set. Dele’s not sure what’s wrong but he half smiles. Eric doesn’t smile back, though, he looks conflicted. His fingers are by his side but he’ll be itching for a smoke, or a joint, or his violin or maybe even- Dele’s mouth? Is that something Eric longs for? Does he think about it as much as Dele does? Does it keep him up at night too? Does he wank off at night thinking about it, then again in the shower in the morning? Is Dele going crazy with this? Is Dele going crazy? 

‘’Oh..’’ Kate’s mum looks startled, a glazed look capturing her eyes as she sees them all for the first time. ‘’Your friends, I didn’t know you were..’’ her eyes are drifting around at all of them, scrutinising them one by one and then her eyes fall on Dele and something clicks or falls or collapses because the atmosphere changes and suddenly her eyes harden. ‘’Kate, darling,’’ the pet name looses its sweetness, ‘’I don’t want guests over without my consent.’’ She lifts her other leg up as Kate takes off her heels. 

‘’So sorry, Miss Goodland,’’ Ruby says sweetly, ‘’It’s our fault, we insisted on coming, really.’’

‘’Yes, well..’’ now in her bare feet she crosses the dining room, collecting their plates and dumping them in the kitchen at an alarming rate, like a hurricane sweeping it all away. ‘’Now I insist that you  _ leave _ .’’ 

Kate rolls her eyes. ‘’Mum, relax. It’s alright. It’s not that deep. They can just come up to my room..’’ #

‘’I’m completely exhausted, darling. Mark and I got into a little tiff, you know how it goes you have a boyfriend,’’ she paused to look at Harry, ‘’How are you my dear? Handsome as always’’ 

Harry smiled tightly. ‘’I’m okay. I’m good.’’ 

She hummed her approval, eyes drifting back to Dele, the same hardened look crossing her face. What was her issue? She’d done this shitty staring shit before and she was doing it again. ‘’I’ve never seen you before, what's your name?’’ she smiles sweetly enough but her eyes don’t match. 

‘’That’s a lie.’’ Dele says honestly. ‘’We’ve seen each other before.’’

She blinks seamlessly. ‘’Have we? Oh I don’t remember. What’s your name, sorry?’’ 

Dele pauses, giving her a look. Then he finally relents. ‘’Dele.’’ 

Her smile wavers noticably. ‘’Like  I said, I want all of you to leave right now. Right now, go, leave. _Leave_.’’ her voice is verging on hysteria. 

Ruby stumbles in her haste to get up and John drags himself out of his seat lazily. Even when they’ve left, he can still hear her ranting, her voice poisoned with alcohol and venom and hysteria. 

Dele turns away from the house once their outside on the pavement, sees John close with Ruby, whispering in her ear, telling her something. 

‘’So this is how she finds out.’’ Eric says beside him quietly, watching the scene too. ‘’How fucked up is this?’’

‘’How fucked up am I?’’ Dele corrects, clenching his jaw. 

Eric is silent, he breathes out and Dele sees the wisps formed. Then he swallows, his adams apple shifting with the movement. ‘’Jesus-you’re not fucked up, Del.’’ He says firmly, an edge to his voice as he faces Dele, nudges him underneath his chin gently. ‘’You always say that. It’s not true.’’ He brushes a misplaced curl away from Dele’s face. 

It’s almost like whiplash. The look on his face compared to now, now its softer, the fur of his hood brushing his cheeks.

‘’What’s wrong?’’ Dele questions blatantly. Because cleary something is bothering him. 

Eric lets out a breath, letting his hand drop from Dele’s hair so Dele grabs it instead and Eric freezes. 

‘’Seriously.’’ Dele insists. ‘’I'm serious. Somethings up with you. Is it John? Did Kate’s mum piss you off as well-’’

‘’ _No_.’’ Eric says hurriedly, he lets his hand just sit with Dele’s. ‘’It’s not..it’s not that.’’

‘’No? Okay, so what is it then?’’ Dele asks, quieter now. 

The night sky sways around them, its all he can do not to look up. Everything’s more poetic at night. Like the plumpness of Eric's lips in that moment, his blonde ruffled hair falling artfully around his blue eyes. 

‘’Nothing.’’ Eric lies, glancing up at the moon, one hand falling into the pocket of his black jackets. 

‘’Dele!’’ Ruby is saying from behind him, her voice getting closer. 

She’s next to them now, shivering from the cold, but her eyes don’t match the temperature, they look sad instead.

‘’John was just telling me-John told me that..’’ she trails off noticing how close Eric and Dele are, her eyes glancing down at their linked hands.‘’That you and Eric…’’ she trailed off again, losing the will to form words. 

Because she didn’t really need to ask to confirm it. Because Dele couldn't be bothered to move back, to distance himself, because if he leaned forward an inch he’d be kissing Eric. Dele didn’t say anything, cowardness surfacing and Eric was closing his eyes again, like he could pretend that he wasn’t even here. 

So he let her revel in the truth that was presented in front of her on a platter, lets her drown herself in it and he didn’t fight for it, he didn't save her. 

++

Opening his locker and finding zero love letters shouldn’t have come as a surprise to him but it still did. 

There was no lyric waxed about his smile, about his capacity for greatness as a human being, nothing encouraging to start his day off with. It wasn’t a surprise but it was still stark. He didn’t realise how normalised it had become. 

He had seen Ruby this morning but she’d been on her phone, he didn’t know if she’d purposefully ignored him or not. How was she feeling? Was she angry? But she hadn’t shouted. Was she sad? But she hadn’t cried, at least he never saw it. Maybe she was high this morning but he wasn’t sure. 

He grabbed his books for his English lesson, jerking when Marcus appeared beside him. 

‘’Hey.’’ he said happily, school textbooks held dearly to his chest, tie immaculately done. 

‘’Er-hi.’’ Dele said, raising an eyebrow, pessimism ingrained within him. 

‘’Just checking up on you.’’ Marcus said with a smile. ‘’You alright?’’ 

Dele raised another eyebrow. ‘’ _ Just  _ checking up on me...right.’’

‘’Not everyone has an ulterior motive. Some of us are actually nice people.’’ Marcus said lightly with a laugh, nudging him playfully.

It was almost as if they were friends. And Dele wouldn’t mind a title like that at all. 

‘’I’m-not bad.’’ He says nodding. ‘’Thanks for asking.’’

Just then, Raheem and Jordan’s snorts echoed in the hallways, alerting them of their presence. Turning swiftly, Dele eyed them wearily, steadily preparing himself for the gay jokes. 

‘’Dele seems to have taken a different direction recently..’’ Jordan says, voice booming and loud, Callum claps him on the back, congratulating him for his absolute genius, Wilde level sentence. 

‘’Is that why Ruby dumped you then?’’ Raheem sneers, giving Dele a onceover.

It’s the prophecy fulfilled. Status roulette but he’s at the heart of it this time. Now he's the target. He imagines they’ve been waiting for something to use against him. 

‘’Too much time, with gay boy over here.’’ 

Marcus has his shoulders hunched over now, any trace of his smile is gone. 

Dele tries to be strong for them both so he doesn’t hunch over. ‘’It’s none of your business.’’ he asserts, though he’s slightly annoyed at how the news had spread so quickly throughout the school. 

‘’Who knows,’’ Raheem says with a carefree shrug. ‘’Ruby could be my business soon. I mean she's probably been around a lot.’’ 

‘’Don’t talk about her.’’ Dele says. ‘’You don’t get to talk about her.’’

‘’And you do?’’

‘’She’s not an object. She’s a great girl.’’

‘’Too great for you, then.’’ Raheem snorts. 

Dele shrugged, he wouldn’t deny it. ‘’Maybe she is. But at least I’ll take comfort in the fact that she’ll never stoop as low as you.’’ 

Callum and Jordan aren’t laughing anymore and the smirk looks stupid on Raheem’s face. He wasn’t expecting it. And when he eventually fucks off, slightly embarrassed. 

Dele notices one of Ruby’s friends in the hallway staring at him in admiration. So he knows what to do. 

He spends his time in English doodling a note for Ruby to put in her locker so she understands. Because it’s always been her way of communicating with him sometimes. So he’s trying to replicate it. He doesn’t expect her to forgive him; he’s a cheat, a liar, and he used her. But he wants her to at least understand why. 

++

Ruby finds him after school at the bus stop. 

Its their bus stop, really. Its _their thing_. Its all the times they’ve waited here together, huddled under umbrellas when it rained, burning together under the sweltering sun, waiting for the same damn bus to show up. So he shouldn’t be surprised that she found him here, least of all places. 

He had been in the library after school with Marcus, helping to set up the place for International Friendship Day so he’s an hour later than he usually is. Knowing her, she’d probably just been in detention. She looked the same way she always did. same lips red, same eyes a golden brown, her skirt rolled up higher than it should be, her hair managing to shine despite the grey weather- early March was unpromising despite being heralded as the beginning of spring. So she looked the same but things had changed so much between them. 

Dele speaks first. ‘’Hey,’’ he begins, fiddling with his hands. ‘’How was your day?’’ 

Ruby rolls her eyes lightly, not interested in his pathetic attempt at small talk. ‘’So I got your note.’’ she says, sitting on the bench beside him. 

‘’Yeah?’’ he mutters, trying to fill in the silence, like colouring the blank pieces of a picture. 

‘’Yeah.’’ Ruby affirms, then she half sighs. ‘’Del-Dele, I can’t believe you never told me. So you live in a foster home, it doesn’t change who you are, you know. It doesn’t make you - _ less.  _ ‘’ 

Dele swallowed hard, staring down at his kickers. There’s the fleeting instinct to keep quiet, keep his thoughts bottled up but he’s past that now and Ruby is actually here willing to listen to him and understand. And thats...something. Thats big.

‘’In my first secondary school, I told people the truth. And the label of it sort of stuck. I was the circus kid, like;  _ OOO  _ whats it like to not know who your mum is, who your dad is? They turned it into a pantomime thing. A running joke.’’He scuffed his shoes into the pavement. ‘’So I thought it’d be better to shut the fuck up the next time. And I knew there _would be_ a next time because I kept moving foster homes, and thus moving schools.’’

‘’Dele.’’ she says again, then she trails off. 

They sit in silence for a bit, watch a bus pull up to the bus stop and leave when it realised they weren’t getting on. 

‘’I’ve been playing hide and seek my whole life.’’ Dele tells her eventually. ‘’The hiding part comes naturally.’’

‘’The hiding part hurts people. And not just yourself.’’ She glances at him, eyes shileded by her messy strands of hair.

‘’I know.’’ he replies, getting her gist. ‘’I’m sorry. And I-I hate that fucking word, you know? But its all I have. You’re my best friend, you know that?;’’ he looked at her but this time Ruby lookd away, staring straight ahead instead. ‘’I thought that would be enough to make me love you the way you loved me and I just-I thought it would be enough..’’ he swallowed hard, looking downa t his hands. 

‘’Everyone loves Eric.’’ Ruby says, although not unkindly, as sort of an acceptance. ‘’You know I used to be obsessed with him when i was thirteen?’’ she shook her head with a wry smile. ‘’Before we became friends, I just admired him a lot- his work ethic and his confidence. I don’t admire him now, though.’’ 

‘’No?’’ 

‘’He’s fucking himself up.’’ 

‘’The smoking thing?’’ Dele guessed, wrinkling his nose. 

She contemplates his answer. ''That's not the main reason, though.'' she looks at him.  ‘’I realised his work ethic - that ambitious drive I had admired so much-was just him chasing perfection to a manic extent, you know. What’s the fun in that?’’ 

‘’There’s no fun in that.’’ Dele echoed. 

‘’Right. And then I realised that you’re trying to save him from that. You’re trying to change your narrative as the kid from the care home by saving him but I hope you know that you’re more than that. ’’ 

Dele stared at her incredulously raising his eyebrows. ‘’The fucks got into you, Ruby?’’

‘’I don’t _know_ of course, maybe I’m chatting absolute bullshit. I’m just sad, Dele. I can’t sit here and lie to you.’’

‘’Ruby, I’m sorry-’’ 

‘’Because it’s like I left St Andrews feeling like shit and then came to this new school which I ended up liking. With _people_ I ended up liking. And it’s like I can never separate my past from my present. Like you and Eric connecting, from two different worlds. It wasn’t supposed to happen.’’

‘’But- but you’re the one who kept going back. Remember when you dragged me to visit St Andrews that one evening? When you dragged me to Eric’s party- convinced me to go to Kate’s house?’’ 

‘’Are you blaming me?’’ Ruby asks sharply. 

‘’No- I just, you keep going back by your own doing. I don’t- Ruby, why did you even leave in the first place?’’

‘’I already told you.’’ she says, slightly stiffly. 

‘’Because your father blah blah blah. It doesn’t seem like enough.’’

‘’Let’s not fucking argue okay.’’ Ruby huffed, standing up and pulling down her skirt slightly. ‘’I’m just- I’m happy you told me your feelings. You’re hard to read sometime so-yeah.’’ 

‘’I’m sorry.’’ he says again. 

‘’Show me where you live, Dele.’’ she asks quietly and Dele can’t help but stiffen. 

She turns towards him. ‘’At least let me have that part of you.’’ 

Theres a painful silence. And then he nods. Ruby won’t judge him. And he does love her for that. 

They take the next bus but this time Ruby doesn’t get off at her usual stop. He shows her where she lives, doesn’t take her inside but she sees it. Ruby sees Stacey, messing about with the door mat outside of the house oblivious to their heavy gazes, Jamie stepping over her to bugger off to a mate’s house probably, cheap leather black jacket wrapped around him. Jesse leaning outside the window from his room and shouting down at Stacey which colour rug would be better. He’s reminded harshly that Megan and Ella are somewhere else now. Its all right in front of her now. All his dirty little secrets.

But Ruby sees it for what it is and she understands.

++

As if exuding tones of empathy, the sun shows up for the first time in a fortnight. 

Its pure golden light lights up everyone it touches that weekend in March. So its obvious that the sun must really like Eric or something because it's setting his blonde hair ablaze, so much so that it looks like there's a halo of sorts behind his head. His usually white skin tanned to something more resembling a golden colour, white shirt hugging his shoulders fashionably. He’s laying on the grass, savouring the rare weather, blinking up at the sun. 

And as Dele stares almost blindstruck, he thinks that there’s something cool about the fact that Eric is waiting for him, in Highams park in Westminister, round the corner from his posh school. He’s waiting for Dele who’s dressed in his pink ratty t-shirt and there’s something rebellious about that, really. That this isn’t supposed to happen, just like Ruby had said.

Dele pulls at his t-shirt, his skin underneath burning with the heat and then races forward tumbling over on the grass, his legs swinging wildly and almost kicking Eric right in the face. Eric makes a noise that sounds like a yelp before grabbing his legs out of reflex and standing up, holding on tightly to Dele’s ankles so he doesn’t collapse onto his stomach. Thi is their version of hello.

‘’Did you play that game in primary school during sports day? The wheelbarrow race?’’ Eric says with a huff as he steadies Dele, hands secure around Dele’s ankles. Skin on skin. Dele heaves, trying to hold himself up by his arms, muscles tensing with the effort, his shirts hanging forward. 

‘’Rich kids played that game too?’’ he manages to say, laughing at his own words. 

Eric laughs softly. ‘’I was really good at it.’’ he says. ‘’I had the best partner.’’ 

‘’Who?’’ Dele asks, not sure where this is going. 

‘’A girl called Gabby.’’ Eric answers, they’re not face to face but he can imagine Eric peering at himlike  _ who did you think i was going to say?  _ A small part of him truthfully and annoyingly thought he was going to say John. 

‘’Go on then. Show us your skills.’’ Eric says, a finger dragging across the bone of his ankles. 

Dele pulls himself forward by his arms and Eric holds on to his legs tightly, he teeters and totters like a toddler finding its feet, hands clutching onto tufts of grass. There’s a pattern of hedges up ahead which he plans on making it to. 

The park is almost empty in the afternoon, he thought more people would be out sunbathing shamelessly in true British fashion but they’ve kept away. With a jolt he realises that they could have gardens the size of a park so why would they even bother to leave their houses? He’s not mad about it though, because it can be their own personal playground. 

He collapses just before the hedges, arms giving up under him, bucklling. ‘’Oof.’’ he mumbles as he falls. 

Eric’s laughing at him, cheeks flushing a light rosy colour. So Dele reaches out and pulls him by the leg so he falls backwards onto his arse.

‘’Jesus, that fucking hurt, Del.’’ he complains, wrinking his nose. 

Dele sits up on one arm, watching Eric. There’s a silver chain on his neck, dangling down when he eventually sits up. 

‘’Tacky.’’ Dele teases gently, flicking the chain, watching it glint against the sun. ‘’Really tacky.’’ he adds. 

Eric rolls his eyes, glancing down at the piece of jewlerry. ‘’It’s  _ Vivine Westwwod, idiot.’’  _

_ ‘’ _ Wait isn’t she dead?’’ 

‘’No.’’ Eric says, giving him a look. ‘’Besides- imagine calling a Westwood piece tacky when your face is tacky personified.’’ 

‘’That was poor.’’ Dele says, disapprovingly, not offended at all. 

‘’Shit. Think I’m running out of insults.’’ Eric says, biting down on his lip coyly.

Dele sniggers but his eyes are instantly captured by the small action. Its already fucking hot and Eric isn’t helping. 

‘’Tell me something you like about me, then. Go on, I’ll wait.’’ He glances at a non-existent watch and taps his fingers against the soft green grass. Really, he’s holding his breath, waiting hard.

‘’Impossible.’’ Eric murmurs, running a hand through his blonde hair, eyes drifting up to the sun again even though he’s squinting.

‘’I’m hurt.’’ Dele says, pouting slightly. 

‘’I think its bullshit- that saying about getting too close to the sun.’’ Eric shrugs one of his shoulders. ‘’I bet I could do it.’’

‘’ _ Eric _ .’’ Dele presses, stiffling a laugh, not letting him change the topic. 

Eric spares him another glance, his eyes darker this time. Its a beat before Dele realises that he’s being studied right now, like one of Eric’s history textbooks. His blue eyes drag across his face, the slope of his nose, the curve of his lips, the length of his neck, his chest hidden beneath his shirt and then lower before resting on his face again.

‘’You’ve got nice hands.’’ he says eventually. 

Dele half snorts and half raises an eyebrow- because what? 

’’S true.’’ Eric says, grabbing one of his hands suddenly and spreading each finger, the contrast of white and brown is almost beautiful. His hands linger on his pinkie finger, pressing his own pinkie against it. ‘’See yours is sort of adorable. Your skins really smooth here.’’ 

Dele is silent, but he’s urging Eric to continue. Their pinkies look exactly the same apart from their skin colour, Eric’s bullshitting just to hold his hand. Dele grins. 

‘’And your veins are nice too.’’ Eric says, hands trailing down to his wrist, to the greens of his veins. 

‘’Your complimenting my veins.’’ Dele deadpans.

‘’What, did you think I was going to say your curly locks or your serene eyelashes? Don’t be daft.’’

Dele grins harder. ‘’I like your veins too, then.’’ he says. 

Eric’s lips twitch. Its sort of like being in a bubble, with this. 

They don’t even mention what went down at Kate’s the other night, unfortunately one of Eric’s favourite habits is rubbing off on him: so they’ll pretend it never happened, that Eric never looked like he was carrying the world on his shoulders that night. Because that would kill the mood, the weather, their vibes. And Dele should hate to be a murder. So he doesn’t mention it and neither does Eric. 

‘’This reminds me of when-’’ he stops himself sharply. It reminds him of after Diana’s funeral, when they had laid with the souls of the dead, when Dele had felt alive.

‘’Think i can’t handle it, Dele?’’ Eric says, reading him. ‘’You don’t have to stop yourself. Yeah it does remind me of that day, sort of.’’He shrugs, letting go of Dele’s hands. 

There’s a comfortable silence where Eric’s just taking him in, just looking at him. For the first time, Dele feels sexy, almost. Like he’s super fucking good looking. Dele swallows hard, reaching forward to touch Eric’s lips. He looks amused but he doesn’t stop it. They were nice when they spoke, when they stretched into smiles, their beauty only hindered when they were occupied with cigarettes and poisoned by the ash and so Dele spoke without thinking.

‘’I wish you’d stop smoking.’’ 

And the bubble bursts. Eric’s eyebrows converge into something defensive. ‘Okay?’’

‘’It’s not good for your health. Your lungs.’’ 

‘’Yeah, Del. I took Biology as well, I know that.’’ he rolls his eyes, and moves back so Dele’s fingers grasp at air. ‘’It just helps me sometimes.’’

‘’I thought your violin did that.’’ Dele replies.

‘’The violin’s good. But there’s so many connotations that come with it, you know? Oxford, perfection, my dad, its just...and then there's a rolled up tube and it’s sort of separate from all of that. It's different.’’

‘’I still wish you’d stop.’’

‘’Then you’d better hope for a shooting star.’’ Eric remarks cleverly, rolling over onto his back. ‘’How’s Stacey?’’ he muses after a moment. It's weird when he says her name still.

‘’She’s better. I think she is doing okay.’’ another pause. 

‘’How are you, then?’’ Eric asks, voice quieter. They’re walking a fine line now with their topics and they both know it. How is he?  _ How is he?  _

‘’I’m okay.’’ he says, realising it's true. He’s okay, really. He applied to university some weeks ago, a couple of ones in East London: safe. Ruby doesn’t seem angry at him but he’s giving her space, and Marcus feels like a firm friend, so yeah, he’s alright. 

‘’Don’t you have a better adjective?’’ Eric says lightly, rolling himself onto his side so he’s looking at Dele’s side profile now. ‘’I have higher expectations for an English student.’’

‘’What’d you want me to say?’’ Dele says with a wry smile. ‘’I’m competent, satisfactory, adequate and more.’’

‘’That’s okay, then.’’ Eric says with a little smirk. 

He gives Dele a soft kiss on the lips and then pulls away quickly, a ghost of lips against lips. Dele follows him, chasing the taste and then they’re kissing properly in the park, wrapped up in each other’s energy, Dele’s hands bunches at Eric’s t-shirt, pulling absentmindedly. He knows it probably cost a bullshit load of money so he tightens his grip, almost hoping that he rips it, tears it, he does so like he’s deconstructing the hierarchy of social class: he likes to think that he is.

Eric tastes like watermelons and Dele feels dizzy with it. Licking into each others mouths like they’re on a sinking ship. Kissing each other like they are drowning- holy shit. It reminds him of Eric and John’s kiss the first time he saw them at Eric’s party. Now he knows what it feels like. It’s a bitter memory which sours him.

‘’Wanna touch you.’’ he murmurs against Eric’s lips. ‘’Right here.’’

Its a selfish way of thinking but he wants to have something that John never did. Did Eric ever kiss John in a park on a sunny day in March?

‘’Right here?’’ Eric repeats sceptically, leaning away slightly.

‘’Drop the innocent act, Eric.’’ Dele whispers. ‘’You’ve done a lot of things like this, a lot more than me.’’ as he says it, its a truth he dwells in. He has fleeting thoughts of the amount of times John had fucked Eric, all over his house probably, the amount of times Eric had gone down on him, all eager and in love. It wasn’t _ fair _ . Dele wishes they’d met earlier, so they could have experienced things for the first time together. Instead, it was Dele who was playing catch up. ‘’John even mentioned you and his chef or something..’’ he trailed off.

‘’He was bullshitting.’’ Eric says insistently, grabbing his jaw so Dele looks at him. ‘’Don’t compare yourself to John, Del. Don’t fucking do that.’’ 

Dele blinks at him. ‘’Why?’’

‘’It's different with you.’’ he admits after a bit. ‘’John was the only other gay guy I knew. I was high half of the time, barely present. I’m not high am I? I’m here, right here-touching your jaw, kissing you, admiring your hands. It's not the same at all.’’ His words are soothing, like jewels. Jewels are spilling from his lips. 

They fall back into kissing and Dele’s hands drift down towards Eric’s skinny jeans, playing with the zip, he nudges his nose against Eric’s practically begging for permission-gagging for it and Eric nods shakily.

The park is large and expansive and the next human being is miles away walking their fucking dog. There’s something exciting about it, in a weird way and Eric’s excited too because when Dele feels him he’s rock hard. 

’’S this a kink for you?’’ Eric mutters, breath hitching as Dele spits on his hand and descends, wrapping his hand around Eric’s dick. It’s the same as touching his own dick- so he knows how to do this. He feels confident that he can make Eric come just like this, he wants cum on his t-shirt to remember this by and -shit, maybe Eric is right, may be its some sort of fucked up kink. 

He drags his hand over the foreskin, feeling it out, blinking rapidly as Eric buries himself in his neck, breathing heavily, His hair is brushing against Dele’s neck. They’re almost connected, almost one. It’s an odd angle so he doesn’t whip Eric’s dick out fully and sometimes his hand rubs on the material of Eric’s briefs by accident but he’s determined for it to feel good so he endures the aching of his wrist. Spits on his hand again to make it wetter, until he hears the slick sound of his hand on Eric’s dick, skin against skin, Eric breathes into his neck cooly. '

He’s quiet, not saying anything, only the whispers of moans he lets out are an indication that he likes it. He starts to kiss Dele’s neck, teeth biting at the skin there, denting a love bite and Dele groans and shifts closer, working his hand harder up and down Eric’s dick, rubbing the top with his pinkie on purpose, swirling the tip, the softness there, the wetness. He squeezes in his other hand so he can touch Eric’s balls at the same time, spits on it. It’s messy and hurried and uncomfortable but it’s hot as fuck.

The burning of the sun makes his hands sweaty but if he smells like perspiration Eric doesn’t seem to care, his other hand pulling on the back curls of Dele’s hair. Eric’s teeth graze against his skin. 

‘’Del.’’ he whispers. 

They love whispering, Dele thinks humorously. 

‘’Shit. Fuck.’’ Eric manages as his breath hitches and his lower abdomen spasms a bit and Dele feels the hot spurt of liquid on his fingers, bursts of it every couple seconds. Eric kisses his neck, rubbing at his hair. 

Dele brings out his hand, stares at the white liquid like its the most fascinating thing in the world. 

And then Eric is lifting himself from his neck, takes Dele’s hands whilst never breaking eye contact. And- shit. He fucking licks his own cum off of Dele’s hands every last bit of it until his hands clean. His blue pupils are dilated and Dele is sure his are too. He’s afraid he'll join him, to be honest. Holy shit. 

‘’Only because you’ve got nice hands.’’ he explains, with his pretty fucking lips. Like thats a fucking logical explanation. 

Its funny, afterwards, to see Eric shift uncomfortably because his pants are wet, its interesting to see him like this. When he’s not in control, when he can’t be a perfectionist.

‘’I’ve never done that with him, you know.’’ Eric says pointedly. 

Dele buzzes at that with a smile, sitting up and hitting the air with his fist. 

Eric laughs constantly, crinkles under his eyes type of laugh, still in a post orgasm euphoria, eyes sparkling under the sun, arms resting behind his head as angudly as he can manage. 

It's hard to look away but when Dele does he wishes he hadn’t. 

Because there’s Kyle emerging from one of the terraced houses across the road, hugging an older looking man and woman at the doorway, the man’s mixed race and the woman is white and she kisses the top of his head like only a mum would really do and-oh. 

Kyle turns away with a bounce in his step, wearing a spiderman t-shirt that Dele has seen a million times before, he goes bouncing down the porch steps, only looking back to wave once again. The couple disappear from the door, shutting it and Kyle practically skips down the street, already putting on his headphones like he’s in autopilot, Dele can predict exactly the playlist he’s got on and he looks content.

Maybe he won’t look over at the park. If he just keeps walking, he’ll find the station and take the train home. If he just keeps walking. Dele urges him to keep walking silently. 

‘’What are you looking at?’’ Eric aksks faintly behind him. 

Keep walking. Dele swallows. 

Kyle looks over at the park. At the merry go round on the other side, the slide, the sets of swings, the person who’s still walking their bloody dog, his eyes drift over it all absentmindedly the way one usually does when lost in a world of music. But it’s not really a glance because it isn’t a quick onceover, he’s stopped in his steps and is really staring now. 

With a jolt, he realises that Kyle is staring at  _ him.  _ Kyle takes off his headphones and crosses the road as recklessly as he usually does, boudning up to the huge black gates at the entrance of the park. 

Dele turns back to Eric breifly who’s staring at him, with a hand guarding his eyes from the sunlight, raised to his forehead. So Dele can’t really see the expression on his face, ‘’’s that a friend of yours?’’

‘’It’s Kyle.’’ Dele says because Eric knows everyone’s names.

‘’Why don’t you go say hi, then.’’ his tone is even so he's not sure if its sarcastic but he obliges anyway. 

Kyle gives him a onceover and he hopes he doesn’t look quite as wrecked as he feels. 

‘’Fancy seeing you here.’’ Kyle greets, grinning lopsidedly. ‘’Interesting place to go on a Saturday afternoon.’’ he quirks an eyebrow. 

‘’Have fun with the Walkers?’’ Dele asks carefully. ‘’Didn’t realise they were posh. Is that why you’ve got so much money recently?’’

‘’Grandad left them with a huge trustfund.’’ Kyle informs him. ‘’They’ve got about 50 bags.’’

‘’Mad.’’ Dele comments, eyeing the watch on Kyle’s wrist. 

‘’Sick isn’t it? I’m spoiled a bit but..it’s still sick.’’

‘’I guess.’’ Dele says with a shrug. 

Kyle rolls his eyes. ‘’A bit more enthusaism wouldn’t hurt.’’ he pauses. ‘’What are you doing here, then?’’ 

‘’Err just chilling.’’ Dele says as vaguely as he can manage. If chilling meant your heart was being set alight then yeah he was definitely chilling.

‘’Chilling, yeah.’’ Kyle repeats, eyes drifting past towards where Eric is sitting on the grass as innocent as he can possibly manage, suddenly on his phone. ‘’With..Eric Dier?’’ 

Dele raises both eyebrows. ‘’How do you know him?’’ he practically demands. He even said the surname and everything. 

‘’Isn’t he that violin prodigy? ‘’ Kyle says, screwing his face up. It's obvious he doesn’t hold a violin in high regard. ‘’Dad says the _whole_ town’s raving about him, he’s in the local newspapers a lot.’’

‘’Huh.’’ is all Dele can say, he knew Eric was amazing but he thought it was confinded to a school context, not like he was a local fucking celebrity.

‘’He’s a bit strange, though. I’ve heard rumours about him.’’ Kyle adds, wrinkling his nose again. 

Dele frowns because he doesn’t like the direction of this conversation but he can’t help but be intrigued. ‘’What rumours?’’ 

‘’Heard hes gay. Up the arse and everything. You should be careful with hanging out with him.’’ Kyle leans forward, like he’s warning him to stay away from something dangerous. 

There's a sickening feeling sinking in his stomach. Something like his heart dropping to the floor. He’d been planning on telling Jesse and Kyle soon. But if this was the reaction he’d receive..He could only swallow hard. 

‘’I’ll go say hi to him.’’ Kyle says, unashamedly bold in his assertion. _The fuck he would_. 

‘’No.’’ Dele says, voice hard. ‘’Go home, Kyle.’’

‘’Why? Might be lucky enough to get a photo.’’ he jokes but its not funny. 

‘’Go  _ home _ , Kyle.’’ he says again more forcefully, and maybe Kyle sees something in his eyes because he doesn’t argue anymore, and turns on his heel. ‘’See you later.’’ he calls over his shoulder. 

Eric’s on his feet when he gets back, grabbing his leather bag that had been placed by the side, slinging it around his shoulder. 

‘’Sorry about that, he’s just-’’ 

‘’You didn’t want him to meet me, did you?’’ Eric asks but its not really a question and he sounds pissed. 

‘’I-well no he’s-’’ 

Eric folds his arms. ‘’Are you embarrassed of me?’’ 

‘’No.’’ Dele says. ‘’ _Fuck_ no, Eric. Hes insanely homophobic, he mentioned how the local paper goes on about you- I never knew you were that popular.’’

‘’Why do you think I have so many friends?’’ Eric says sarcastically, but there’s hurt glimmering there in his voice. 

‘’I’m not ashamed of you, at all. It’s not like that, at all. I don’t want you to think -’’ 

‘’It’s hard not to think like that when you practically chased him away.’’

‘’ _Hey_.’’ Dele says, grabbing his arm, keeping him in place. 

He’s somewhat thrown off by Eric’s burst of insecurity. But then he remembers. This is what Eric is like when he feels he is fading, so Dele needs to save him. Shower him with compliments. 

‘’How could anyone be ashamed of you?’’ he shakes his head, pulling Eric into a messy hug, ignoring the stiffness of Eric’s shoulders. ‘’It’s impossible.’’

‘’Its happened before.’’ Eric says quietly, exhaling onto his skin. 

‘’Yeah? Was it John?’’ and Eric’s muscles tense. ‘’I’ve told you before, you can tell me about this stuff. And I’ll tell you stuff as well right?’’

‘’-Right.’’ Eric concedes eventually, allowing himself to be hugged and then hugging back. 

‘’You’re good at this, you know.’’ he adds after a while. 

‘’Good at what?’’ Dele quirks an eyebrow. 

‘’This.’’ Eric repeats, as vague as ever but maybe Dele is getting better at reading him. This. Them.  _ This.  _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whew! that was a shitload of plot, hope you enjoyed it :)


	12. Forgive Them Father

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Eric tries to cope with all of his secrets.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey its been a LONG TIME so if you're still here thank you. this is Eric's pov and the last time we had Eric pov was chapter 8 where you might remember he finds an image of a mixed race boy in one of his mum's photo albums. If you don't remember its good if you reread chapter 8 just towards the end. This chapter's a bit longer so enjoy and stay safe and healthy. 
> 
> also spurs are top of the league for the second week in a row, happy days all round coys!
> 
> Follow me on tumblr if you want I need   
> more people to scream over spurs n football in general 
> 
> [ @chocolatea-m-blog ]

Eric comes to the solid conclusion that he’s just so fucking needy.

And it's like this- he’s doing okay. He can get through some of his history homework with a sober mind, stumble through his music prep with some Shostakovich soothing him in his earbuds but then he’ll pick up Othello and think of the time he went to watch the play live when he was eleven. When the smaller version of himself had been entranced by the lights and the makeup, the music that lingered in the background of the scenes between the actors. In his young, but sure, opinion, the orchestra had been the overlooked soul of the play of Othello, carrying it forward and leading the way.

Before Act Two, during the interlude, some musicians had taken the stage and played the violin for the audience. At this, Diana, his mother, had leaned forward slightly, suddenly more interested. ‘’That’s such an interesting instrument, isn’t it?’’ she had mused to Eric, before quickly being distracted when she had heard that the bar was open during the break. She had left, promising to be back in time for Act Two- just a quick drink and a quick cig- nothing major. Nothing out of the usual.

So Eric had heeded her word and waited. And waited. Then Act Two had begun. But he still had waited, losing track of the pace of the play, losing track of the storyline. Even after Othello had ended and the audience were throwing roses and yelling ‘’encore!’ he had stayed in his seat, very still. Even after everyone else had gone, he hadn’t moved. He would have waited some more if a member of staff hadn’t come over then, politely asking him to go home.

As he’d left the theatre, he had seen Diana then, chatting to a group of older looking men outside, laughing as smoke danced out of their breaths, laughing like she didn’t have a son right there who had been waiting for her so anxiously. It was one of the moments that had defined his relationship with his Mum.

And that's why he found Dele’s admiration of Diana borderline _irritating_.

Dele only knew a particular side of his mum, when she’d become noticeably nicer towards the end of her life. More concerned about his education, asking for his report cards, calling up his teachers- shit like that. Dele could wax lyrical about her, easily. He liked her carefree attitude and her enthusiasm, saying often that it was infectious. Or that it _had been_ infectious. Dele missed her nostalgia about the X factor, he missed her smile. Sometimes it felt like _Dele_ who’s mum had passed. They argued over her sometimes. It was petty and only on the days when the outside stress of upcoming exams prickled their skins and arguing, at least for Eric, helped to relieve such stress. Truthfully, Eric thought Dele was romanticising her; a widowed wife with a tragic end and a talented son whose end _she_ would never see.

‘’Would you stop idolising her?’’ he’d snapped at Dele one day in particular, cutting off the younger boy’s monologue about Diana’s sense of humour.

Maria, sat across from him with just a chess board separating them, eyed Eric at his sudden outburst. She had agreed to indulge him in his lenient game of chess, silent as the two boys talked back and forth. Dele was sprawled comfortably on the couch watching them, watching Eric, really. His legs seemed to go for miles in those dark, faded jeans and his hair was freshly washed, it looked soft and curly. Dele raised an eyebrow, clearly caught off guard and then leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees, staring Eric down. He made Eric nervous in a good way. He made Eric want to run a hand through his hair three times instead of just the once. This quiet but lingering feeling of energy on the hairs of his skin ever since Dele had turned up in the morning, never officially invited but showing up anyways knowing Eric would let him in. Right now though, that lingering feeling of energy was spiked with just a little bit of annoyance.

‘’Eric.’’ Dele said after what felt like a lifetime of silence. ‘’What? What did I say wrong?’’ he asked bluntly.

Maria quietly played her queen piece and Eric made a sound of disapproval.

‘’Everything.’’ Eric breathed out deeply, biting down on his lip as Dele stood up sharply and crossed the room, crossed the distance between them and knelt in front of him, frowning slightly. ‘’She’s not a saint, alright?’’

The way Dele was looking at him carefully half made him want to abandon this half fledged argument all together and kiss him senseless because no one had ever looked at Eric so delicately, like he was something so precious. Like whatever was wrong, Dele wanted to smooth it out immediately, wanted to fix everything. But he was still sort of stubborn so he pushed that feeling down.

Dele hummed in thought. ‘’I never said she was, though, did I?’’ he sighed and expanded. ‘’She was just- _nice to me_ , is all. She never treated me any different. She was fucking dying and-she was so upbeat about stuff. I just respect her a lot.’’

‘’There’s so much you don’t know about her.’’ Eric persisted, the memory of his trip to the theatre when he was young increasingly persistent. There was other things too, like how often she was never around when Eric’s dad died, out with men and friends from work more often than not. ‘’There’s a reason I looked for my dad’s grave at the funeral and not _hers_.’’

Dele’s eyes darkened and across from him and Maria stiffened. She was sort of used to the spikes in their relationship, the highs when Eric would lock his bedroom door so he could kiss Dele uninterrupted, so Dele’s moans wouldn’t be heard when Eric gave him a blowjob, when they talked until two am about things that didn't matter and things that did. Then there were times when Dele would snap at Eric’s spending habits on Gucci products, his excessive conspicuous consumption of it all. The vainness of it irritated him, when the class differences between them were glaringly obvious or Dele hated how much he smoked and wouldn’t kiss him when his fingers had danced with the Marlboro packets. Eric would get angry when Dele practically worshipped his mum-like he was doing now-or frustrated because Dele was still sort of closed off and didn’t want Eric anywhere near where he lived or his school or even his fucking area and it felt _unfair_ , like a deal half done because Eric exchanged loads and he wouldn’t get the same back. It was so difficult, the whole falling in love thing; a thing that Eric realised was sort of inevitable at this stage. The only thing he could control was how he was going to land. It was fucking hard when they both had such shitty pasts. And it was harder when Eric didn’t really know how to tell Dele that his whole fucking life was a lie, that he knew more about his parents than he let on and that built tension too. The tension was there in Dele’s shoulders now, though as he sat in front of Eric, wrinkling his nose.

‘’That’s such a disgusting thing to say.’’ he said, seriously. ‘’Why would you say that?’’

‘’I’m just being honest.’’ Eric had said, shrugging. ‘’Would you prefer it if I had lied?’’

‘’What are you fucking -She was your _mum_ , Eric.’’

‘’Don’t think she made that much of a difference.’’ Eric sniffed. ‘’I might as well have been an orphan from the start.’’

Close to home. Way too close to home. He knew it as soon as the words had settled into the air. Dele, who had practically grown up as an orphan. Dele’s jaw clenched and then he stood up and stalked out of the living room, slamming the door behind him and leaving Eric and Maria in a cold and prolonged silence.

Regret filled Eric immediately, filled him to the brim and he let out a sharp breath, pushing the chess board away from him as it was contagious. Fuck, he thought. _Fuck._

‘’Are you self-destructing on purpose?’’ Maria spoke then, after observing the both of them.

'’I’m just -’’ Eric cut himself on after a failed attempt at forging his own defence. ‘’I don’t know.’’ he finished, honestly, pulling at the ends of his sweater. ‘’This is hard.’’ he added, knowing Maria would understand him.

‘’Only if you want it to be.’’ she said kindly. She leaned forward then as if she were going to tell him a secret. ‘’You _know_ ,’’ she began gently. ‘’Your mum struggled really bad after your dad died.’’

‘’I know.’’ Eric said gruffly, slightly rolling his eyes. That much was obvious. ‘’No, Eric- she was scared.’’ Maria nudged him, forcing him to look at her. ‘’She was depressed and terrified. That’s why she spent less time with you. Now I’m not trying to defend her but i just want you to understand. I also think you would feel a lot lighter in here,’’ she placed a hand on his chest firmly,’’ if you could let go of some of that anger towards her.’’ Then she leant backwards on her chair and crossed her arms. ‘’Just saying.’’ she shrugged and then grinned slightly. ‘’I won, by the way.’’

Eric smiled reluctantly as he realised belatedly that she had, in fact, won their little game of chess. He also realised she had won the conversation between them too. ‘’Is that going to go on your CV then?’’ he bantered.

‘’Of course.’’ Maria laughed. ‘’Not many can say they beat _the_ Eric Dier at Chess, can they?’’

Eric laughed quietly, cheeks flushing warm until he settled down a bit more, feeling himself calm down. Now that he was thinking clearer he hated how he had pissed Dele off and pinched his own thighs realising he missed the warmth of Dele’s presence.

‘’Go and talk to him, then.’’ Maria said knowingly, rolling her eyes. ‘’Honestly you’re meant to be a _genius_ aren’t you?’’

‘Stop teasing.’’ he said, standing up and stretching with a sigh. A sudden wave of tiredness struck him and he suddenly just wanted to curl up in his bed with the duvet covers. He left the living room and made his way upstairs knowing Dele would be somewhere brooding in one of them.

He found him upon opening the fourth bedroom, Dele was sat on the windowsill, a light from a car outside passing over his face illuminating the slope of his nose, the strength of his jaw before the car passed and his face was shrouded in darkness once again. He didn’t even glance up at Eric’s arrival.

‘’Del.’’ Eric called out softly. Dele didn’t respond. ‘’Del.’’ he said again, moving forward towards him after closing the door, grasping at the younger boy's waist and hugging him tightly. ‘’I’m so fucked-I didn’t mean it-promise I’m just-I’m sorry-’’

Dele was stiff in his arms and wasn’t hugging him back, wasn’t looking at him. ‘’Del.’’ Eric said again, quietly, blinking at him with blue eyes. He was so tired and regretful and he just wanted to sleep, he wanted Dele to spoon him from behind, he wanted Dele to touch him back, to envelop him with some sort of warmth. He wanted Dele to love him and all his fucked up flaws. ‘’’M sorry.’’ Eric whispered, squeezing him tighter. There’s silence. Eric leans in breathing in the familiar smell of Dele’s shirt, nosing at his neck. ‘’I wanted to hurt you.’’ he admits after a while.

‘’Why?’’ Dele spoke at last, finally turning to face him. Eric leaned in to kiss him and Dele obliged but then pulled back, grabbing Eric’s jaw firmly. ‘’Why?’’ he repeated.

‘’Because she hurt me.’’ he admitted and kissed Dele again, their tongues met and Eric’s heartbeat sped up as Dele’s other hand crept underneath his jumper, resting on his pale skin, whispers of forgiveness.

‘’How?’’ Dele asked, pulling back again.

‘’Left me alone in this big fucking house so much.’’ Eric said with a gulp, as Dele’s hand settled low at his waist, squeezing slightly. ‘’Made me feel like she didn’t want me for years. Until recently and I just-I can’t just forget that easily.’’

‘’I see.’’ Dele murmured as Eric kissed him again. He grabbed his blonde hair and pulled him back and Eric gasped, feeling needy and prickles of arousal. ‘’So just say that next time.’’

Eric nodded so fast he almost got whiplash, desperate to be close to Dele again. Was it possible to glue their bodies together?

‘’I want to be close to you’’ Eric whispered, honestly. It was the most sustained period of honesty he ever remembered having and really, it felt like the right time to tell Dele the truth. Because he deserved to know. And then after he’ll tell Kate because she deserves to know too. And they’ll all talk to Lilian who will explain everything. And Dele will know who his parents are but things won’t change because Dele will still be there for him, he’ll always pick Eric’s call, he’s always got time for him. He’ll grill Lilian on how the fuck Dele ended up in foster care and he’ll get this burden off his shoulders.

‘’You are close to me.’’ Dele said with a chuckle.

‘’Closer, then.’’ Eric said, shivering happily as Dele brought his other hand down to Eric’s waist. And he was meant to tell Dele, now, he swears he was, he really _should’ve_ said something but he got distracted by the feeling of Dele kissing him and telling him it was okay and afterwards, when he used his coarse hands to rub both of their cocks together and Eric was distracted again. He was supposed to say something but he was too busy rutting upwards into Dele’s hands needily and moaning into his mouth and he was supposed to say something but he was too busy being close with Dele which was ironically driving them further apart. 

++

Everyone was still talking about Dele and Eric at school.

It had been a hot topic that spread like wildfire around the school, from the sixth formers to the baby faced year sevens who ogled with excitement, jumping at the chance of gossiping on _the_ violin prodigy. The mysterious curly haired boy with Eric with the bottle green uniform, when Eric had appeared out of nowhere and said ‘’He’s with me.’’ People found him interesting, fascinating, they loved his musical ability but they also took interest in his romantic life and many had loved him and John together; two stars drawn together, a true power couple. And now the illusion had been shattered. Because there had never been any real love between them. Nothing like laying on the grass and falling in love with someone’s hands, smooth brown skin under the sun and a hooded gaze. 

‘’Eric, are you with us?’’ Miss Taylor’s voice was loud from the front of the classroom, a humorous look on her face. Teachers never got mad at him. He was the _Oxford kid_ , after all, and therefore automatically the chosen one. He couldn’t put a foot wrong, in their eyes.

The rest of the class turned to look at him cheekily, taking the excuse to scrutinise him and suddenly Eric was subconsciously tugging at his tie, making sure it still looked pristine. Eric blinked up at her, tapping his pen on his desk. ‘’Of course.’’ he answered confidently and with clarity. He had once spent every single second with John, he knew how to turn the confidence on when it was required.

‘’Lovely.’’ Miss Taylor responded smoothly, moving on with a smile, her Othello copy wilted with wear in her hands.

Beside Eric, Jessie smirked. They’d been English partners all year. She was witty and smart and sharp tongued with long dark hair that often brushed against Eric’s arms. She lowered her voice. ‘’So are you experimenting or something?’’ she asked, pretending to read scene seven. They would ace the tests anyways, the lessons almost felt pointless.

‘’With what?’’ he asked half-listening. Jessie usually enjoyed small talk and although Eric usually indulged her he found most of their conversations boring. 

‘’You know-with that boy..’’ she continued. ‘’He’s not exactly your type is he? He _definitely_ doesn’t go to school around here and well- he doesn’t look like John, that’s all.’’

Eric paused, his eyes stuck on the word _thee_ as what she was asking fully washed over him. He glanced at her. ‘’Don’t bullshit it.’’ he said bluntly, aware of her fucked up question but wanting her to have the balls to say what she _really_ meant. Why go through the backdoor? 

She tossed her shiny hair behind her straight shoulder and met her green eyes with his blue ones. ‘’Why are you dating a black boy?’’ she then asked, truthfully.

‘’He’s mixed.’’

‘’Same shit.’’ she waved her hand, lazily. ‘’It’s a complete step backwards from John. Personally, I don’t understand your thought process behind it. I mean, is he even going to university? Is his dad even around?’’

‘’Is _my_ dad around?’’ Eric questions, slapping the stereotype back in her face.

Her mouth quivers and then she arranges it carefully so her eyebrows are still slanted. Regrouping. She was good at it. They all were. It was a damn private school, they were crafted into this. They were taught, _had been taught_ how to handle any type of setback, any type of divergence that came their way. Persistence was their first language. Jessie was one of the most fluent.

They pretended to flick through the play as Miss Taylor walks past their desk, a whiff of her perfume strong.

‘’Is it true, then?’’ Jessie continued, because she loves the sound of her own voice and also because she was most probably genuinely curious and believed her curiosity was justified and valid. Because this was the product of too much privilege in life. Eric could see that now, he thinks he sort of got it. ‘’Does he have a big-’’

‘’Seriously?’’ Eric rolled his eyes.

‘’Well it seems like _I’m_ the only one talking about the elephant in the room here. If anything, I deserve an award.’’ she said, leaning back in her chair and folding her arms.

‘’I need a fucking smoke.’’ he muttered, making a face. It had been weeks since he’d last smoked and he realised in that instant as Mrs Taylor rambled on that it was getting to him.

Jessie grinned and flashed her lighter underneath the table as well as her pack of Mayfair’s. He reached forward instinctively and she pulled her hand back slightly, raising an eyebrow.

Eric stared at her before relenting. ‘’Yes its big and no im not experimenting.’’ and then he snatched the valuable possessions, stuffing it into the pockets of his navy blazer and asked for permission to go to the boys bathroom, ignoring Jessie’s little smirk as he went.

It was worth it either way, especially as Eric was by the window in the bathrooms exhaling softly, looking over the school grounds from the third floor with a whirring mind.

Of course Dele didn’t look anything like John. And maybe it was true that he didn’t really have any non-white friends so from Jessie’s perspective he could understand her curiosity but not her judgement of Dele’s background. Dele did want to go to university, even if he didn’t admit it openly but Eric could sort of tell and liked it when they studied together and Dele would lose himself in creating flashcards that Eric had to repeat his name several times. And even if he didn’t want to go to university, that was fine because he would gain more practical work instead. Overtime, Eric had come to realise that Dele's anger towards Oxford was the way it entrenched the privileged into their privilege. In other words the system and, not education itself.

Most of the prime ministers of their country had either gone to Oxford or Cambridge, established networks and formed connections they would be able to depend on for life. Would that be Eric? He loved music and ideally would end up in an orchestra but in case that didn’t work out he could fall back into politics if he played his cards right and find himself in parliament easily. Everything for him was so _easy,_ it was all there. He breathed out a ring of smoke and leant over the ledge of the window. This school was his and the world could be too. It was all there.

‘’Eric.’’ someone purred, a voice he recognised as Eriksen’s. Eric bit the inside of his cheek and didn’t move an inch from his place. Christian stood beside him, smiling annoyingly at Eric before looking outside at the school grounds too. ‘’Beautiful sight isn’t it?’’ he mused, glancing at Eric.

Eric hummed, non-comital.

‘’My Dad is doing a great job isn’t he.’’ This was less so of a question, more of a statement. ‘’This school is _ours_ you know.’’

‘’Aren’t you supposed to be in class?’’

‘’Aren’t you?’’ Eriksen shot back and then glanced at the cigarette in Eric’s hands. ‘’Old habits die hard, huh.’’

‘’Shut the fuck up.’’ Eric shook his head, adjusting his tie. He was ready to go back, Eriksen had totally killed the mood. ‘’Old habits die hard.’ Eriksen said again as Eric threw his finished roll into the bin.

‘’So I heard. Like a minute ago.’’

‘’For you that means one of a few things. Means being the perfectionist that you are, playing your violin and _keeping it in the family.’’_ Eric paused in his steps before he reached the door. ‘’Also you and your damn cigarettes.’’ He felt chills slightly. He knew that Eriksen was infatuated with him, but that he was accurate was annoying. Eriksen rounded on him, standing face to face. ‘’The school is ours, Eric. Do you know what I meant by that?’’

‘’Of course, I’m not thick.’’

‘’We should have been ruling it together this whole damn time like the blonde geniuses we are.'' Eriksen continued. ''My Dad runs this place therefore I am the second most powerful person in this school. And you, by sheer talent, are the third.’’

‘’Are you giving me a speech?’’

'' I’m giving you a _reality check.’’_ he emphasised, pushing Eric back slightly, albeit very gently. Eric brushed his hands away and blinked up at him.

‘’So what are you going to do with all that power?’’ he asked in a bored tone. 

‘’Actually, I’ve already done a lot.’’ he answered vaguely.

‘’Like what?’’ Eric pressed.

‘’Have a lot of fucking fun, that's for sure. Ruby would know.’’

‘’Ruby..’’ Eric frowned at the random mention of one of his best friends.

‘’Ruby-yeah. Yeah, she's a _crazy_ one. We used to go mad together, and tried all sorts. Was fun but then it got boring and she left, so,’’ he shrugged casually as if this was news Eric was supposed to know. ‘’I’m also the one who helped you get that Oxford place, by the way.’’

‘’No you didn’t.’’ Eric said instinctively, immediately distracted from the news about Ruby.

Eriksen chucked, looked down at his polished black shoes and then back up at Eric. ‘’You don’t sound very thankful.’’

‘’Because you’re fucking lying.’’

‘’You _messed up_ , Dier. That day when you played at assembly, when the governess was there, we didn’t tell you that the head of Music at Oxford was _also_ present because we knew it would drive you insane. But he was there, Eric and you _messed up._ John even told you that afterwards but your friends lied to your face and told you you had done well.’’

‘’No-stop.’’ Eric said, blinking rapidly. ‘’Stop-you’re lying.’’

Eriksen grabbed his shoulders and made him stay still. ‘’Relax.’’ he said calmly as if he wasn’t just fucking dropping a bombshell on him.

‘’How can I fucking relax when-’’

‘’Because you’re _in_ . I pulled a few strings and now you’re in as long as you get the grades. _That’s what_ I do with all the power I have Eric, do you see?’’

‘’Stop-’’ was all Eric could say like a broken record. He felt so _dirty_ all of a sudden. His skin was on fire, the pale ivory of his arms beneath his white shirt suddenly ablaze with embarrassment and an unknown sort of.. _shame._

‘’You’re _in.’’_ Eriksen repeated, voice smooth and steady blinking at Eric with clear blue eyes, a flicker of sympathy before he recovered himself. And that's how he knew Eriksen was most likely telling the truth. Eriksen licked his lips. ‘’That’s why I’m giving you this reality check. I got you in. Don’t fucking mess this up. Don’t mess this up because of _him_ -don’t you dare.’’

First Jessie, now Eriksen. This was what they were all thinking, right? Why him? Why Dele? Why mess up your future, Eric? You’re supposed to keep it in the family. Stick with your kind, your own. But he didn’t want to do that. Shouldn’t that have been reason enough?

‘’I’m just saying.’’

‘’Stop touching me.’’ Eric said bluntly, shoulders easing once Eriksen stepped back.

Eric then moved past him at a fast pace, leaving the boys bathroom but instead of going back to class he went to the music room, found it was empty. His precious violin was there in all its shiny black glory. He hurriedly picked it up and played something, anything, screw the music sheets. He needed to somehow calm his racing heart. But as he strung his bow across the strings all he could think about was what a _fraud_ he was. 

++

He’s listening to Queen as he goes over some American Revolution notes, placing bright neon post it notes on his wall to remember all the key dates, flashcards around his room that he forces himself to engage with daily and he’s got a podcast on whether the ideas of the enlightenment or the 1773 Tea Act pushed the colonies into rebellion.

Eric thinks it's the latter, he thinks that's _really_ the trigger point in the short term and he meticulously argues that this most definitely is the case in one of his essays. He has to go harder in his A-Level subjects. He needs to somehow balance the scale. Only three A stars would make him feel less guilty about the fact that he made it into Oxford via Eriksen and his father's magic wand.

He’s digging into his third drawer for the textbook from Edexcel when he comes across the fated 2005 album again. He’d forgotten that he’d moved it here to his room and he was momentarily distracted.

Many times during lunch break he had dangled the idea in front of Kate, had hit with an her innocent ‘’How comes you don’t know more about your brother?’’ but she had frowned at him, clearly not eager for the tidal of feelings that came with that topic and she had deliberately snuggled into Harry, ignoring him.

He’d dangled the idea in front of Dele too the last time they’d met up at the park, Eric straddling his waist playfully, threading some daisy’s into his hair like it was in fashion and then he’d paused whilst Dele was shaking out the flowers with distaste. ‘’Imagine if you _did_ know your parents, though.’’ he’d said quietly, lacing a bunch of daisies together and forming a daisy chain. ‘’Like- how would that make you feel?’’

‘’I don’t give a fuck about them.’’ Dele had responded fiercely, almost defensively like he was trying to convince himself as much as Eric. ‘’If they showed up, I’d struggle not to attack them, probably. They’ve fucked me up for life now. And its been seventeen years now. Anyone’s heart would grow cold after that amount of time. He looked so tense as he spoke about it all.

Eric had smoothed the frown of his forehead gently and then picked up his daisy chain, all pretty and dandy. ‘’I heard these are pretty good at melting hearts.’’ he says, sliding it over Dele’s slim wrists.

Dele had laughed at his antics, bending his head to get a closer look. ‘’That is one _fucked up_ daisy chain.’’ he remarked. ‘’Look at the third one. She is so fragile. You kidnapped her didn’t you, you proper bastard.’’

‘’She made it too easy for me.’’ Eric said with amusement, shrugging.

‘’I’ll be the hero for once, then.’’ Dele said, placing the third daisy back on the grass with all of her other friends. He paused dramatically. ‘’Hear that?’’

‘’What?’’ Eric said, already smiling at his answer, leaning forward because he anticipated that Dele’s answer would warrant a kiss.

‘’She’s thanking me.’’

So between it all he’d never _actually_ gotten around to telling Dele about the 2005 album he had discovered because it was always something in the way. And hearing what Dele said if he did know his parents lead him to believe that-maybe it was _better_ this way. What was the point of creating a shitload of drama out of nowhere when things were going so good?

And there was a selfish part of him that enjoyed that him and Dele shared the parents thing in common. It made them closer and Eric could find comfort in Dele and vice versa and he wasn’t sure if that dynamic would remain if things changed. His thoughts were weighing him down and the Marlboro packets were just on the other end of the room. It would be so fucking easy to do it. He doesn’t, though. And he knows why, really.

The doorbell shrills then- twice-, loud and prominent and it sounds odd when you haven’t heard it in a while, like a fucked up nursery rhyme. Maria’s gone shopping so he’s alone when he goes down the stairs, casually fitted in a comfortable white jumper, joggers and black socks.

It says a lot that he doesn’t really react when he sees John in the front porch, flinging his car keys round and round. ‘’Are you lost?’’ Eric asks cordially with an indifference that clearly irks him but John is surprisingly restrained.

‘’Hey, Eric.’’ he says stiffly. ‘’I just wanted my watch back. The one i got you for your birthday?’’ the gift he used to get terrorised about?

‘’Okay.’’ Eric says, not moving an inch. He’s testing the power dynamics. For years its been in John’s favour but its tilting slightly towards him now.

John blinks, mildly uncomfortable. ‘’Okay? So can I get it or?’’

‘’I’m trying to remember if I gave it to Dele or not.’’ he pauses thoughtfully and John’s face flips.

‘’That's not funny.’’

‘’Well you was the one who use to make jokes all the time. Proper comedian, you.’’

John strides past him then, hair styled with gel, beige trousers fitted and prim.

"My room. Second draw drawer." Eric says reluctantly with a sigh, folding his arms. He watches John fly up the stairs, remembering a time when this had been a _thing_. When John used to come over all the time and all the would do is have sex, he'd listen to John slag people off, eating berries throughput the summer evenings. They had never really talked, or John had really never listened, he wasn't sure which. Eric was starting to feel the draft in the hallway, the slight breeze settling on his hands. John was taking ages. He shut the front door and went up to his room, the door half open.

John wasn't even by the drawers, the infamous watch was on the bed forgotten and he was on the other side of room, careless of his American Revolution notes, bent down over the 2005 album, peering at it with an interest matched only by the way he looked at his Macbeth scripts when he was in the zone and getting into character. Eric froze, the door almost slamming and catching his fingers.

John glanced up at him then, his blue eyes shining. He already knew. He was witty enough to figure it out. "Who's the mixed race kid?" He asked.

"I don't know. " he says, crossing room to take the album from him, scooping it into his arms.

"Bullshit, Eric." He shakes his head, his eyes blazing over. " _Fuck_. ‘’ John hissed. ‘’Fuck. You know, It makes a bit of fucking sense."

Eric pauses and he hates himself for it but he can't help the question pouring from his lips. "What do you mean?"

"Think about the way Lilian acted when she saw him. She's _never_ told us to get out. She was well out of character. "

"She's a fucked up drunk." Eric reasoned, thinking about Kate's mum. 

"And no one even knows how Kate's brother apparently died." John continues, his brain working overtime. He paused, scoffing. "Just think, Dele's supposed to be _one of us,_ in a big house with a fucking maid and an overflowing bank account. Think about _that_."

Eric doesn't want to because its it's the confirmation he's never really wanted. Would things be the same? Would things be the same if Dele was just another one of the kids at his school, in the same navy uniform, living at Kate's with Lilian and the black man from the photos. As childhood friends, they would have been good buddies. that's _all_ they would have been, probably. And he'd never know what Dele's lips tasted like or the small mole on his neck or that he got sarcastic when placed in difficult situations. He'd miss out on so much shit. It was weird to think about.

"It's weird." Eric said quietly.

"That's _embarrassing_ , more like. Dele's not made for a place like Westminster. God forbid he finds out.." he looks at Eric sharply then. "Are you gonna tell him?"

"Yeah, I will. Eventually. " Eric Looks down at his hands, playing with the hem of his jumper.

John laughed dryly. "Then he'll be off."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

"He'll want nothing to do with you if he knows his mums got millions in the bank. He can expose Lilian to her fake friends and then she'll be forced to give him thousands to save face. If he's smart that's what he'll do. And _neither_ of us really know him. Only since October."

It felt like years, though. "That's not true." Eric says. Dele hated materialism. 

"We both know I'm right, though." John asserts with ease, grabbing his watch from the bed, fingers soft against the silver. "Relationships don't last but diamonds do."

And it shouldn't phase him, it shouldn't get to him at all because he _knows Dele,_ knows him more than he knows the dates of the revolutionary war, knows Dele's thighs and the trail of coarse hair near his navel, how far he's come with his sexuality, knows his relationship with God, and the way his mind works but. But.

But it still gets to him a bit.

Because he only really knows the Dele that shows up to Westminster, he doesn't know what Dele is like around his friends, when he's at school, and Dele still never opens up that part of him, so really it's like a Pandora's box but he cant get it to open up and he remembers Dele pushing Kyle away from meeting him like a dirty secret so he cant help but wonder slightly.

And it still gets to him because deep down, Eric’s insecure and John's words have always had an adverse effect on him, even now. So Maybe he wont tell him so soon after all. Theres no rush for it. It'd be better to tell him after exams, when there be no distractions. 

++

For Dele's eighteenth birthday in early April, Eric takes him out for the evening. Even though he has another gift - a violin that he bought, not bought with the intention of wanting Dele to play it but just to own one, just to own the instrument that Eric is closest to would be enough- although he’s going to give that to him later on. 

"Let's _go_ somewhere." Eric had said after forcing Dele to get on with some studying at his house, even insisting that they use different rooms for maximum productivity. 

Dele had raised a thick eyebrow. "Nandos?" he guessed.

" _Nando's?_ " Eric had repeated, offended. "You know I'm classier than that." 

He was _definitely_ classier than that.

"So we're going to a nightclub." Dele deadpanned from the backseat of the taxi, one arm slung around the headrest of Eric's seat, nonchalantly. 

"It's a rite of passage,'' Eric insisted. "It's a tragedy that you've never been to one." 

Dele rolled his eyes, tapping against the interior of the car door. "Sweat, tears, a bunch of drunks, some drugged up druggies. Shit. Can't believe I've never been." 

Eric nudges him with his thigh so Dele turns towards him slightly and Eric leans in wrapping his arms around his waist, enjoying the warmth radiating from Dele’s black jacket. 

"Isn't that the point, though, Del?" He says slowly, voice lowering so the driver can’t hear. . 

"I don't want to get fucked up, though. I want to be in control of myself." 

"You don't have to get fucked up. Since we'll be the only sober ones we could just have fun with everyone- mess with their heads a bit." 

Dele looks amused at that. "Sounds brilliant."

"Doesn't it just? We’ll be kings for the night.’’ Eric grinned, tugging on Dele’s shirt underneath his jacket. The club would be _theirs._ If he had to rule somewhere with anyone it would be with Dele not with Eriksen, he thought as he recalled their conversation in the bathroom. Never with Eriksen. ‘’And everyone's going to know it, too." 

‘’Know what?’’

 _That I'm in love with you_ , is what he definitely does not say. 

‘’That its your birthday, dumbo.’’

Dele looks surprised, the shadows hiding his expression, before he nudges Eric back and then pulls him back closer into a hug. 

They do, indeed, rule the club like Kings, play with people like pawns on a chess board, toy with them the way a cat does with mice. Dele’s class at winding up a group of women out on a hen night by banging on about the reasons why the bride should absolutely positively _not_ get married. 

In the girl's drunken state, dele probably seems professor-like. 

‘’He’s got a point, Lucia.’’ one of the bride-to-be’s friend with bright red hair says with a pout. ‘’Remember the amount of times he called off your dates just so he could play overwatch?’’

‘’That was _ages_ ago, though.’’ Lucia said with a frown, she furrowed her eyebrows then blinked wide eyed at Eric as if willing for him to agree with her. Eric simply stared back at her in amusement not moving an inch. ‘’Besides, he’s thrown the game away now, anyways.’’

Her friend with bright red hair made a face. ‘’Well.’’ she said, biting down on her lip.

‘’ _What?_ ’’ Lucia demanded desperately. 

‘’Well, its just that-’’

‘’What?’’ Lucia repeated. ‘’Damn it, Angela spit it out.’’

Angela looked annoyed suddenly. ‘’Why are you angry at _me_ , for? It’s not _my_ fault your fiancé’s addicted to video games-’’

Dele’s hand was suddenly on his waist, firm yet gentle, pressing in with his thumb, pushing against the soft white fabric of Eric’s shirt. ‘’Think we should piss off, now’’ 

‘’Ever the troublemaker.’’ Eric says with a grin, leaning into the touch. 

‘’Was only winding them up because of you. Knew it’d make you laugh.’’

‘’But it’s your birthday.’’ Eric points out. 

Dele hums then smirks a bit. ‘’Do something for me then. Say something that’ll make me laugh.’’

Eric stares hard at him then decides to let the words swirling around in the pit of his stomach free. ‘’I think I love you, Del.’’

Dele’s laughs. Of course he does. Throws his head back and all. ‘’Nice one.’’

The lights of the nightclub flash green, then pink, then blue shades onto Dele face and he looks good underneath them all. "This isn't real." Dele says, changing the subject, shaking his head. 

"It is, though." Eric says, smiling sweetly at him, stepping forward, grabbing his face so he has to look at him. ’I think I’m in love with you. Isn’t that strange?’’ he adds the last part as maybe an afterthought. 

Dele doesn’t laugh this time. ‘’Don’t say things you don’t mean.’’

Eric bites the inside of his cheek and then gasps as someone bumps into him from behind, pushing hi, closer towards Dele. Dele easily wraps his arms around Eric’s waist. 

‘’How many times did you say that to Stones?’’ Dele asks seriously. ‘’Mhm?’’

‘’Stop.’’ Eric whispers, pulling away. Thinking about John triggers him slightly. But Dele tightens his grip and leans his head against Eric’s. Eric closes his eyes and breathes in deeply, tries to block out Dua Lipa’s latest hit blasting loudly. 

‘’I can’t stop thinking about you and him.’’ Dele admits after a while. 

‘’You have to stop.’’

‘’But I can’t.’’ 

Eric allows himself to open his eyes and meets Dele’s dark brown eyes, a piercing stare that makes him want to close his eyes again. His cheekbones are sharp, his eyebrows thick and sharp. The boy that Eric saw in those album phots grew up to be very handsome. He makes Eric feel wanted. 

‘’You need to stop.’’ Eric says again, kissing him in the corner of his mouth. 

‘’But I can’t.’’ Dele repeats.

‘’Dele.’’ Eric sighs defeatedly, leaning his head down against Dele’s shoulder. The fabric of his jacket is cold against Eric’s skin. ‘’Dele just-’’

‘’I’m sorry.’’ Dele blurts, shaking his head. He makes Eric look at him again, stares at him, eyelashes long. ‘’Sorry so you-you actually-’’ he moves them out of the way of a couple moving towards the dancefloor. ‘’You meant it?’’ 

Eric half shrugs, suddenly not as bold. 

‘’It’s fine.’’ Dele tells him. ‘’We don’t have to talk about that. Let’s just chill, yeah?’’ he runs a hand through Eric's blonde hair and the older boy nods eagerly, flashing a smile.

Dele smiles back, and they're kings again side by side for tonight at least. 

Eric gets hold of the microphone because the DJ recognises him as the local violin prodigy even whilst half drunk.

"Is this working." He murmurs, making a face when the mic screeches, sound bouncing around the walls. 

"I think so." Dele says wryly a couple of feet away. 

Eric ignores him with a grin. "My beautiful friends, even though half of you are completely baked - spare a thought for someone who was born eighteen years ago today.." 

"I was!" an older woman nearby says proudly. "Except not eighteen years ago. no more than forty I swear."

" _Yeah right."_ a man coughs grumpily next to her. 

"Er-Happy birthday, then, ma’am." Eric entertains her with one of his best smiles, right off the top shelf. "But I sort of meant my friend over there." he nods at Dele who looks dazed staring at him. 

"Dont be shy darling, happy birthday!" the lady says, bringing a stiff looking Dele into a bear hug. Eric snickers. "That's all." he says, handing the mic back with a flourish. The DJ proceeds he goes all eighties on them and Eric is only surprised he hasn’t pulled AC/DC out yet. 

Dele eventually wriggles away from the lady, an embarrassed flush lingering on his cheeks. ‘’She got you that flustered did she?’’ Eric teases. 

Dele makes a face and doesn’t answer and Eric just laughs. 

They get offered different drugs; opioids, LSD, quads, all shoved in their faces all night long like a never ending test of his restraint, but Eric never relents even though he is no stranger to some of them. Dele offers him a skittle each time he turns one down which proves as decent enough motivation and Dele ends up kissing him mostly anyways. They can’t keep their hands off each other. Eric shamelessly wants to suck Dele off right there, he wants his come down his throat, he wants Dele to stop thinking about John, Eric wants to stop thinking about john himself - their fucking conversation from earlier. 

Another development is the amount of boys and girls swarming towards Dele. His looks really good and his worn black jacket is probably appealing to a drunk clubbers bad boy dream, especially the white Essex girls. When Eric leaves to go to the bathroom and comes back Dele is surrounded and he is also drinking something. A spark of annoyance hits because he’s gone all night without it.

They're crowding around him as he tells a story about a fish that doesn't exist.. It's sort of a reversal of roles and it's weird to see. Usually Eric would be in the middle of such crowds. 

Eric's by the bar when his phone vibrates against his thigh. 

_What do you think happened to Dele's father tho?_

_I cant fucking wrap my head around this._

_Lilian has always been fucked but creating a narrative about a dead younger brother of Kate’s is next level._

Eric doesn't reply because he doesn't know why John suddenly thinks they're on talking terms, united only in their knowledge of a dark secret. 

Dele's fighting off the attention and looking around, only slightly tipsy. his eyes catch with Eric and Eric looks away because everything is too bright and too much, AC/DC are too loud and a cigarette would be perfect and wouldn't be hard to get either. He's slightly overwhelmed by the loudness of the music and he's burnt himself out, he wouldn't have minded spending the day with Dele in his room instead. 

He makes an abrupt decision to leave the club and find a group of smokers, he'd be back as soon as he could. There was a group of older men and women in their twenties, standing around the alleyway, fingers clutched white tubes. There was a slight breeze that evening.

"Mind if I have a puff?" He asked.

The one with red hair smiled delightfully, looked him up and down. "Just a puff?" He asked lightly to the amusement of his friends.

Eric ignored his comment, taking the fag and holding it up to his lips with expertise. He inhaled deeply missing the feeling. Dele was exiting the club then, looked left and then right and Eric watched him silently waiting for him to turn around.

The red head hadn't looked away. "So you here with anyone or?"

"Yeah." He said, exhaling softly. "He's over there. It's his birthday."

Dele turned his head, looking in his direction, just then. He looked a little annoyed as he walked over, Eric pinched himself on purpose regretting the smoke. It hadn't even been worth it.

"Jesus, Eric." Dele says. "You just walked out. I thought you'd gone home."

"Why would I do that? Why would I leave you?" Eric said, handing the fag back to the red haired man, promptly ignoring whatever he had muttered under his breath. "-I just didn't like it there."

"Neither did I.’’

Eric raised an eyebrow. ‘’Didn’t look like it.’’

'' I thought I liked the attention and it was fun for about a minute. But then they wanted another story from me and I didn't have anything else to say. They got bored of me, I guess.'

''You should have done something more interesting." Eric said, with a small smile.

Dele mirrored his expression, taking his hand then and Eric laced his fingers with Dele's, forgetting the other people.'' I did. Dramatically stormed out after this blonde tory git.''

''Not a tory.'' Eric grimaced and Dele snickered.

"I know. We should go." Dele says, serious then. "Yours?"

"No." Eric said, pushing himself off the wall. "We should spend the night somewhere we'll never go to again. So that its ours."

"What, like a hotel?"

"Yeah, actually. The Ritz is open right now." He adds lightly. "Its for grown ups, you know.

''So we'll fit right in."

"Exactly." Eric nods easily.

He's not going to shy away from the fact that he's thinking about sex when they're booking in an hour or so later because he is. Because they get a master suite and Dele's looked at him with a heavy gaze and kept touching his thigh in the cab on the way over. So is he thinking about it too? The lady booking them in gives them a knowing smile so can she feel it as well? Theres this feeling _lingering_ over the both of them that Eric wants to explore, take advantage of, capture and keep.

The Ritz reeks of richness and romance and he thinks of all the films that have taken place here, all the sex scenes and he realises that he wants it. He wants Dele to fuck his brains out. He wants to belong to someone, he wants to belong to him.

The lady slides the hotel room keys over and Dele picks it up, twirling it with his fingers. Eric remembers the off licence store just down the road and its it's still open, they've probably got lube and condoms and Dele's leaning against him now, one hand pulling on the lapels of his Jean's, like he cant keep his hands off him either and his skin is burning with the feeling too. 

"Meet me in the hallway." Eric says, managing to drag himself away. "I'm just going to get some Lucozade and maybe a packet of ready salted crisps."

Dele smirks because they both know hes bullshitting. "Take your time." He says, leaning against the counter watching Eric watch him as he walks backwards. They look like a couple of dumb teenagers but the title is something he likes at that moment in time.


	13. The Miseducation of Dele Alli

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HELLO :) Hope everyone had a great Christmas. I really wanted to get this out before the new year so I'm pleased to upload this now. As for updates lets just say I'll be updating once a month to be on the safe side and so I won't disappoint too much. 
> 
> This is a big one, you know its serious by the title of the chapter yikes. Please enjoy x

Dele finds himself waiting in the corridor outside of room 311, sat on the floor, rubbing his hands back against the carpet until his palms burn. He doesn't want to go inside the room yet but he imagines that it's probably going to match the décor out here; thick walls shaded red that lined the rest of the hallway.

There are slight murmurings from further down - guests enjoying their evening at _The Ritz-_ there's this distinct casual richness that clouds the air and it's a heavy scent which Dele would be a fool to ignore. Even going up in lift to the sixth floor, watching middle aged men and women drift in and out as they made their way back to their rooms was an experience in itself. They must have had big office city jobs to afford nights in places like these. And Dele felt like a kid amongst them. He thought that _even_ Eric, as accustomed to wealth as he had been growing up with parents that inherited fortunes from _their_ respective parents to the point where Eric’s mum hadn’t worked the last ten years of her life- _even he_ would feel small amongst all of these grown ass adults, Dele was sure.

Except, Dele was an adult too now. And it felt weird, to say the least. He scoffed and dragged his hands through his curly hair. No way was he allowed to vote and shit like that, would soon have to pay council fucking tax, all of these _responsibilities_ suddenly popping up like flies.

A woman cleared her throat suddenly. Dele jolted and looked upwards, finding himself staring at a bare faced brunette with loafers on her feet and a black playsuit on.

‘’Excuse me.’’ she said, pointedly.

‘’Right.’’ Dele responded, standing up so she could continue down the corridor.

She walked past him and then paused, swirling around to face him, curiosity written on her face. ‘’Waiting for someone?’’

Dele stared her down, wanting to tell her to just keep walking. But he nodded instead.

‘’Enjoy your night, then.’’ she smiled, looking a little smug.

‘’Will do.’’

Her loafers scuffed on the carpet as she made her way over to her room, just four doors down. He sits his arse back down and faces the wall, playing with the room key and wondering why Eric is taking so long. He's a little tipsy from earlier but he feels safe with Eric, always safe. And the day had been really good; Him and Eric had taken care of each other just the way they needed. They didn’t need any _parents_ \- any of those grown adults. They managed just fine on their own because they looked out for one another.

Eric needed him and Dele knew that because he needed him in just the same way. He needed to feel Eric’s skin against his, he craved that intimacy. Closeness that he’d never really had with anyone before. Eric was all of his firsts. 

The hallway was now silent and empty, his breathing giving sound into the space and it was a weird Sort of feeling, a weird sort of power.

It was midnight and his birthday was officially over. Stacey had gotten him some flashcards sets from WHSmith because _education mattered_ , Jesse had bought him the Coming to America DVD which was in his words a _cultural reset_ and Kyle had given him £300 from his parents which he had in his pocket and it had felt weird to accept but foolish not to. It was weird that Kyle- the same guy he’d experienced blackouts with when the electricity bill wasn’t paid- _that_ same Kyle was some sort of loaded big shot right now. Jamie, ever the most half-arsed of them all, had ruffled his hair and called it a day and he'd gotten texts from Kate and Harry and even Ruby. He was still giving her space but she didn't seem mad anymore that her boyfriend had gotten involved with one of her best friends, not really, she was still trying to understand, she was a good person. They were working on it. 

"Aren't you cold?" Eric was asking suddenly, holding a plastic bag in one hand, looking down at him, the other hand leaning against the red wall. He looked good against the wall, just like had Dele knew he would. But. 

But there was something off. His lips were bitten red, and his cheeks were flushed red-not the red when Eric was amused or when they pulled apart after kissing-it was something else.

‘’Why’d it take you ages?’’ Dele stood to his feet, taking the bag from Eric and watching how the older boys fingers flexed anxiously against the thin air when they weren't holding on to anything.

Eric looked away. ‘’Just some idiots at the shop -its bullshit..’’

‘’What type of idiots?’’ 

‘’It’s just _bullshit_. People that’ve seen me in the local paper-Said some shit about Diana. Whatever. Can we get the hell inside the room?’’

‘’Diana.’’ Dele repeats, his instinct fierce protection for the woman kicking in. 

‘’I didn’t fucking stutter, did I?’’ Eric looked at him defensively and then sighed rolling his eyes half-heartedly. 

Dele shows Eric the key for the room, jiggling it around so it makes that little sound and then puts it into the back pocket of his jeans. Eric tracks the movement before running a hand through his blonde hair. 

‘’Just tell me what they said and then we can go inside.’’

They stare stubbornly at each other before Eric relents.

‘’They saw me buying the bottle of lube - a group of guys from Westminster-I’ve seen them around but they’ve never spoken to me before. They don’t even go to St. Andrews. And one of them- he starts talking about how my cock sucking behaviour gave her cancer -like I said just bullshit right?’’ Eric talks so quickly, shoves the words out from his lips like its scorching hot, that Dele almost doesn’t even catch all of it. Then Eric is reaching into Dele's back pocket, grabbing the keys and opening the door. ‘’Like I said - just bullshit-no big deal.’’ he storms inside, shrugging off his long coat and fiddling with the light switch. 

‘’Eric.’’ Dele says, walking in behind him. He's enraged. His skin is boiling. He half wants to go down to that fucking off-licence himself, get into a scrappy fight-wants to do _something._

‘’It's your birthday, Del.’’ Eric says, watching the chandelier flicker and then turning towards him. ‘’I don’t want to talk about it.’’

‘’Its midnight-so not my birthday anymore.’’ Dele counters, sitting on the floor in front of the perfectly laid out bed, he leans back against it and then opens his arms. ‘’Come.’’ 

Eric blinks at him, blue eyes and all and then he kneels down in front of Dele, crawls towards him and then stops, stares at him. His hands frame Dele’s face, trail down to his chin, his neck, back to his jaw. Then he hugs him back, ducks his head into Dele’s shoulder, the crook of his neck and Dele pulls him tighter in. He’s not quite sure what just happened but his heart beats faster. Eric smells like spring when Dele gets a face full of his blonde hair. 

‘’Smell good.’’ he whispers. ‘’I’m so angry.’’

‘’Me too.’’ Eric says, kissing his shoulder lightly. ‘’You know when you’re so angry that you get upset?’’

‘’Yeah.’’

‘’Well, it was like that.’’ he shivers in Dele’s arms before climbing fully onto his lap, his thighs warm through the material of his trousers. Dele’s hands rub up and down his back slowly in circles. He just wants Eric to feel better. ‘’And I fucking _miss_ her.’’ Eric adds after a prolonged pause, tone on the edge like he’s almost ashamed to admit it. 

‘’I know.’’ Dele says. They had argued about Diana way too many times to indicate that Eric was completely okay with her being gone. And he can read the older boy better, now. When he thinks about it, he can’t believe he ever believed Eric was anything close to an enigma. He thinks he can read him pretty well now. He feels like he knows everything there is to know about Eric Jeremy Edgar Dier and everything he knows, he loves. 

‘’I miss her so bad.’’ his voice breaks a little and Eric gasps before going silent but his body is shaking and Dele knows that he’s crying. 

‘’Listen to me.’’ Dele says quietly, rubbing at the back of the blonde’s neck and nudging him slightly so he looks at him. Rosy tear stained cheeks and watery blue eyes look back at him. And as they look at each other Dele realises that this is it. Eric is it. This is the boy he first saw all those months ago at his birthday party, high off his arse, the same boy he’d seen when he and Ruby had broken into St. Andrews littered all over the display boards with his black violin, the boy with a house too big for him and the world at his feet-but he’s not untouchable. Because he’s right here in front of Dele-being vulnerable, relying on Dele. He makes Dele feel needed. Dele realises that he _wants_ to be needed and to be needed by Eric, Eric who’s blinking down at him, sitting on his lap-it was really something. 

‘’Diana was so fucking proud of you.’’ Dele tells him straight on. ‘’When you would fuck off to your room ignoring me,’’ he made a face and Eric smiled reluctantly, ‘’she used to wax lyric about how ambitious you are. In everything. She used to say ‘even if its the way he walks into school-he makes it an event’.’’

Eric sniggered, hiding his face behind his hands. ‘’Really?’’

‘’’Course.’’ Dele grabbed both of his hands and pulled it down, linking their fingers. ‘’She banged on about how gorgeous you are and I never disagreed.’’

‘’Del.’’ Eric breathed, tone almost dreamily, leaning down towards him, putting their foreheads together. 

‘’You’re really gorgeous, Edgar.’’ 

‘’ _God,_ do not call me that.’’ Eric shook his head although his lips betrayed him with a smile and he tightened their gripped hands. 

‘’And she loved you so much. I get that I don’t really know what she was like before- and I can only go off my time with her. And maybe she wasn’t perfect but she loved you and you fucking loved her so stop denying it. Just embrace it.’’ 

‘’ _Fuck_.’’ Eric said, unlinking their fingers to wipe his tears away fiercely with the sleeve of his jumper. ‘’Fuck.’’ he said again, rubbing his eyes and then looked at Dele with the most warm gaze he’d ever been on the receiving end of. His skin was warm. Eric took his thumb and index finger and tugged Dele’s lips up into a curve. Dele squirmed and raised an eyebrow. 

‘’I just find it precious how much love you have to give.’’ Eric tells him, removing his fingers from Dele’s lips and then cupping his face. ‘’I’m glad I’ve got you. I’ve only got you, you know.’’

Dele nodded and let Eric kiss him. They both sighed into it and the realisation that they were as alone as they had _ever_ been fully sunk into Dele.

When he went to university, he was going to be released from the foster system- from the parochial life bubble he’d been floating in for more than a decade. He wouldn’t have Stacey anymore. And there was a part of that that scared him-even for all the flack he had given her, all the doubts over the authenticity of her role as his mother of sorts-he was still a little scared.

But then there was Eric. 

There was Eric grabbing at the back of his hair as their lips touched, gluing them together like thieves in the night. Dele wriggled his palms, somewhat relatively cold underneath Eric’s silky shirt and revelled in the way he felt the blonde’s bare back visibly tense, Eric had the smoothest skin, his lips were even softer.

And so, Dele thought, that if he was going to be alone in this world, he might as well be alone with Eric Dier.

Eric pulled back only to lean forward a moment later. ‘’Gonna take a shower.’’ he whispered in Dele’s ear and then smirked at Dele’s bewildered reaction. 

‘’Wh-Don’t look at me like that.’’ he laughed, adjusting his legs around Dele’s thighs and standing up. ‘’And besides; are you truly at The Ritz unless you use up their excessive amount of cashmere bathrobes? Nope, don’t think so.’’ 

‘’Eat the rich.’’ Dele muttered, placing his arms behind his head and rolling his neck back as he watched Eric walk confidently towards the en-suite bathroom.

‘’Maybe later!’’ he called back with ease. He was definitely back in his comfort zone. You wouldn't have known he had broken down just moments earlier unless you stared really hard. Which Dele was accustomed to doing by now. He stared until the bathroom door closed shut quietly before snapping out of it. 

So _this_ was what _The Ritz's_ rooms looked like live and in the flesh.

It was grandiose galore. It was gold tinted lamps that deferred towards the huge chandelier on the ceiling. Huge, draped curtains with intricate red patterns which were heavy when he tugged on them slightly. The other room seemed to be a designated kitchen, a small microwave, a large counter made of black marble. The room he was in, the main room contained a large queen sized bed, the sheets neatly made, there was a small letter on the bed which when he opened realised it was just a message from room service telling them to enjoy their stay with a smiley face at the end of the sentence and a small key to the balcony. 

The sound of water hitting the tiles softly in the distance was the background music to his little tour. The plasma screen sized TV was on, by default on BBC One reporting on the news that there some nutter in Birmingham who had gone on a stabbing spree and Dele zoned in and out swiftly, desensitized to such things by now. 

He lowered the volume of the telly a bit so he could hear if Eric was done with his late night shower- and the shower had evidently been turned off. Eric walked out, the room felt warmer as he did, wrapped comfortably in a light blue cashmere bathrobe, his blonde hair wet and darker, skin tanned. He was really a sight for sore eyes. 

‘’So talk to me.’’ Dele said, clearing his throat. ‘’How's the bathrobe?’’

Eric smiles as he goes over to the drawer by the bed, hovering over the complimentary beauty kit given by room service and looking for some body cream. His cheeks are pinkish. ‘’Fairly decent. What’d you reckon?’’

‘’You know that blue is your colour.’’ 

Eric rubbed down his legs, as he moved higher the robe rode up on his thighs -they were thick and muscular, soft and white. Then he switched legs, rubbing cocoa butter down his other leg. ‘’Thank you, _sir_.’’ he said mockingly, then glanced over his shoulder at Dele who was smirking at him. 

Dele looked over towards the bag Eric had brought from the license store, noticing that the bottle of lube wasn’t there and so his mind- working overtime had a sneaky suspicion that Eric had taken it in with him for his shower. 

He strolled over towards Eric who was rubbing his hands together, making use of the last bit of cream left. 

‘’Did you-’’ he cut himself off when Eric’s blue eyes met his unflinchingly.

‘’Did I what?’’ Eric said, smiling lightly. 

‘’Did you..’’ Did you take the lube with you into the bathroom, did you touch yourself, did you prep yourself, do you want me to-do you want _us_ to fuck the way two people who are in love with each other but too damned to say it out loud do? 

‘’I’m going to get a glass of water.’’ Eric said, looking at him teasingly, lips pulled high into a smirk as he shuffled towards the dining area, grabbing a champagne glass and filling it with tap water instead of the bottle of red wine nearby. 

Dele realised it right then in HD, 4K, 3D and all of the above combined that he wanted to touch Eric in all the places that could be reached and wanted Eric to do the same to him. The realisation hit him repeatedly as Eric leaned against the counter to fill his glass with more water. It was on a loop. He’d wanted to, for a while, really. But it-it felt right somehow. They were already naked to each other in all ways possible without removing all of their clothes.

So Dele walked up to Eric, grabbed his glass, set it aside, and then wrapped his arms around Eric’s waist. 

Eric gasped into Dele’s mouth as their lips met. Dele had never felt so desperate in all of his life. Keeping Eric in place, he kissed down Eric’s neck as he fumbled with his other hand in attempting to push the glass further away so they wouldn’t knock it down in their haste. The kissing had turned into mostly gasping as Dele picked Eric up by the waist and sat him on the kitchen countertop. 

Eric shoved Dele’s jacket off his shoulders to the ground and then undid the front of his own revered blue bathrobe hastily and threw it to the side like it wasn’t the Ritz’s very own. Eric was naked in front of him and the realisation seemed to hit the blonde as his eyes widened slightly when he felt Dele’s hands on his bare waist. 

‘’You’re beautiful, you know that. It's just me, remember? No big deal.’’ Dele said quietly, biting into Eric’s bottom lip, one of his hands tangled in his blonde hair as Eric used both hands to unbutton to unbuckle Dele’s belt and nearly ripped it off to toss to the floor. 

‘’The biggest deal of them all.’’ Eric refuted but allowed himself to relax. Dele let his hands wander. Eric was all soft muscle, his upper thighs were thick, waist slightly curvy yet firm. His stomach was flat and toned, his dick sat nicely between his inner thighs and he smelt like grapefruit from the soap he’d used not too long ago. ‘’Done ?’’

Dele laughed, cheeks hotter but he didn’t feel embarrassed because there was nothing to be embarrassed about. 

‘’Fuck me.’’ Eric demanded breathlessly. ‘’I’m not waiting. I prepped myself in the shower.’’

Dele kissed his jaw in quick succession, he had anticipated as much but it was still something to hear Eric admit it. ‘’Fuck.’’ was all he could manage. 

Dele pulled Eric off the countertop, spun him around, and pressed his chest to Eric’s back, gripping his hips and bringing Eric’s ass to press against him so Eric could feel how hard he already was. Eric moaned, head dropping back onto Dele’s shoulder as he grabbed the countertop, trembling as Dele dragged his hands firmly across Eric’s chest, across the darkened area of his nipples and pinching slightly. Even as inexperienced as Dele was, he felt like he knew all there was to know. He was confident that he could bring Eric down to his knees with his touch just by pure virtue of just knowing Eric the way that he did. 

Eric was panting as he leaned over the countertop, and he whined needily when Dele pressed a finger into his hole and sure enough, met the wet liquid of the lube. He pressed a finger in-just to see- and Eric’s whining turned into a soft moan. ‘’Del.’’ he whispered.

Dele reached his other hand around to steadily stroke Eric’s cock to full hardness, kissing along his neck and shoulders sweetly. He added another second finger quickly and then a third as Eric slapped his palm against the countertop, begging to just be fucked and to get the prep over with. 

Dele kissed him behind his ear, shushing him and then turned back towards the bedroom area and used some of the remaining lube in the bottle to slick his own cock up, walking swiftly back to where Eric was sinfully waiting for him like a belated birthday present, naked and beautiful and in love with him. Dele knew that he was in love with him.

He bent Eric over the countertop again and lined himself up before thrusting in smoothly as Eric let out a choked moan. 

‘’Jesus,’’ Dele gasped as he entered Eric, a ripple of sensation running down his spine in the ways that only happened when you were suddenly hyper aware of everything happening around you. ‘’Just-oh, God.’’ 

Dele gripped Eric’s hips with his fingers digging into the skin, fucking into Eric with near reckless abandon and very little finesse, his inexperience showing through as he was gripped with a sudden urge to feel everything in Eric’s tight hole. He was chasing his own release and searching for Eric’s, soaking up every little noise of pleasure that escaped Eric’s mouth. Eric clawed at the countertop, scrambling for some kind of purchase that he couldn’t find, mewling Dele’s name without much though, halfway, though, he started calling him _baby._

‘’ _Yes_ , baby.’’ Eric praised him. ‘’Doing so well. Fucking me good.’’ 

It twisted something in Dele’s stomach in the best way.

‘’What-?’’ Eric asked breathlessly as Dele pulled out, and then he spun Eric around. He wanted them like this. He picked Eric up again and pressed his lower back into the countertop, lowering Eric right onto his cock. Eric’s breath stuttered as he clung to Dele tightly, arms around his neck, fingernails digging into his skin painfully in a way that Dele craved- he wanted Eric to need him the same way he needed Eric. Eric wrapped his legs around Dele’s waist immediately. 

‘’Del-Del, right... _ah_...right there,’’ Eric managed to get out as Dele thrusted erratically throwing caution to the wind, his lips pressed to Eric’s shoulder, hands gripping his ass tightly. Eric rolled his hips expertly, torturously so, like he was deliberately testing Dele’s restraint because it felt so good he almost damn near dropped him. 

When Eric started to slip from the sweat, Dele carried him right back to the bedroom, kissing his swollen lips along the way like they were his source of oxygen and then he sat on the edge of the bed with Eric in his lap. 

Eric ran his hands down Dele’s shoulders to his elbows and then back up to cup behind his neck. Even as fucked out as he was he still managed to whisper ‘’This is very adventurous for your first time, you know.’’ 

Dele snorted, running his hands up and down Eric’s thigh. ‘’Definitely.’’

‘’I’m in love with you, you know that too’’ Eric whispered again, quieter this time if it was possible, circling his hips and then pressing his chest to Dele’s, dropping his head to press kisses to Dele’s shoulder. Dele melted into him, knowing he was impossibly close but desperate to be closer yet, skin burning with the feeling of Eric riding him and the weight of his words. 

‘’Dele.’’ Eric said, voice dripping with aroused need, pulling Dele back into reality. Dele didn’t have time to consider his emotions. He didn’t really need to. He knew how he felt. But he was literally inside Eric and bound towards an intense orgasm. And Eric was still in his lap, blonde hair mussed, cheeks flushed pink, bottom lip kiss-bitten, eyes half-lidded.

Eric fucking Dier. He was fucking Eric Dier. Oh God. 

Dele lifted his hips to fuck into Eric and Eric sighed in relief, slumping slightly. He whispered a few nonsensical words, begging Dele to finish him off. 

‘’Shh.’’ Dele shushed and then gripped Eric’s jaw and kissed down his neck and chest slowly, encouraging Eric to continue fucking himself. Eric suddenly gasped and stilled and then angled his body just a little, letting the tip of Dele’s cock brush against his prostate. Dele kissed the next gasp right out of his mouth and their breathes danced together. 

‘’Please,’’ Eric asked, practically begged, dragging his fingernails down Dele’s back, nails sharp and carving marks onto his brown skin. Dele liked it. He liked it so much. 

Dele flipped Eric onto the bed on his back swiftly, threw Eric’s legs up onto his shoulders admired the birthmark on his inner thigh, grabbed his hips and then started to fuck him hard. Maybe what they had been doing previously was making love but now they were just full on fucking. There was nothing nice about it and Dele wanted to cry with the want. Every breath overwhelmed him as he fucked into Eric, repeatedly hitting his prostate with every move and then he looked down at Eric, gasping, almost choking on his breath as his eyes rolled back and he stopped forming sentences. 

Dele leaned forward, one arm on the mattress whilst the other still held Eric’s leg and then he snapped his hips forward in a sudden burst of energy, his cock slipping in and out of the boy made of ivory, Eric dragging his fingernails down Dele’s back again. He lost himself to the lust and gripped Eric’s blonde hair, gasping into the crook of Eric’s neck, fucking him as the bed rattled and groaned at their change of pace. The headboard banging repeatedly against the wall as Eric moaned his name softly. He held his breath at the way Eric’s back arched off the bed, eyes rolling back as he came untouched, body trembling, little spasms as he became over-sensitive very quickly. A cry escaped from Dele’s mouth and he buried himself deep inside Eric and came seconds later, his body nearly collapsing. 

The mere sight of Eric beneath him is enough to convince Dele that he’d gladly start a petition to replace the portrait of the Naked Woman in Kate’s spare room with Eric naked like this instead. 

‘’....I don’t even think I finished that glass of water.’’ Eric eventually whispered. Dele could feel their heart beats, louder than bombs. 

‘’It was tap water..’’ Dele argues after a breath. ‘’It didn’t deserve to be finished.’’ 

‘’Oh My God-’’Eric said all of a sudden.

‘’Hm?’’ Dele turned to look at him curiously, how his sweaty blonde hair stuck to his skin. 

‘’I think I threw that cashmere bathrobe near the bin.’’ Eric snickered. 

They both laughed and Dele slowly eased himself off of Eric suddenly realising how messy of a situation they were in. He pulled out and watched as his cum dripped slowly out of Eric’s ass, the wave of cold air in the hotel room suddenly giving him goose bumps. He got up and went to the bathroom, grabbed a couple towels and cleaned them both up before tossing it somewhere near the bin. 

He felt a wave of tiredness as he climbed back into bed with Eric, thanking God the bed was so big that he could roll them both over towards the right and avoid the wet spot on the bed sheets which neither of them could be bothered to deal with in that instance. 

Dele found himself with his head on Eric’s chest, the older boy running a hand through his curly hair slowly as the silence started to envelope them. Time finally caught them and Dele realised it was almost two a.m. He glanced at the television which was still on, showing news from the States, images of a police officer pushing a black man against the hood of a car. The car looked like a station wagon. Eric was watching too, pressing a hand on Dele’s forehead gently. 

‘’It makes me angry too.’’ he whispers. 

Dele looks away from the television and up at Eric, from this angle he admires the slope of his nose, the curve of his jaw, the blue of his eyes. 

‘’How was it?’’ Dele asks, changing subjects. 

‘’Asking me dumb questions.’’ Eric rolls his eyes. 

‘’Tell me.. _baby_.’’ He adds the latter word teasingly and Eric flushes visibly. ‘’What, don’t like it when its the other way around?’’

‘’Its not that-it's because you’re mocking it.’’

‘’I liked you saying it.’’ Dele admits earnestly, looking up at him. His chest is warm from how hard his heart is beating. 

Eric squints at him before deeming that his answer is genuine enough and pulls him up from the back of his head so their lips meet. ‘’Fine, then, only during sex though.’’ he says in-between kisses. 

‘’I think I could qualify for a degree in fucking the soul out of Eric Dier.’’ Dele says, nosing at Eric's neck and pressing his hand against his stomach. 

‘’If you’re that invested…’’ Eric entertains his banter tiredly, sleep attempting to catch him now. 

Dele hums and closes his eyes breathing in Eric’s scent of sweat and grapevine, he can still smell their cum, it's a filthy atmosphere in reality and contrasts beautifully with the glamour of The Ritz. He drifts into sleep with Eric playing with his hair. 

++

It was the sound of Eric swearing under his breath that woke Dele up the morning after.

The first thing he stared at was the ceiling, the chandelier looked uglier during the day, it lacked that aura of intimidation that it had at night time-when humans were more desperate for light. He sat up slightly, the sheets ruffling and tangling with his legs as he ran a hand through his hair, forcing himself to become fully awake as the setting around him came groggily into place.

Eric was on the floor near the big draped curtains, hunched over his iPhone, a crease in between his eyebrows. He had one of the dressing gowns on this time, an inky black one. He swore again, scrolling though something on his phone. ‘’ _Fuck..’’_ he was speaking quietly, muttering almost, but it felt like he was shouting really.

The digital clock next to the bed pointed out to Dele that it was just after ten and they had been told at the reception that breakfast would come at eleven via room service. 

‘’Eric?’’ Dele said and as he blinked properly he noticed that Eric looked really distressed. He hopped out of bed instinctively and went towards the older boy who looked surprised when Dele strode towards him- and not in a good way. 

Eric grabbed his phone and stood up sharply moving backwards towards the curtains. ‘’What are you doing?’’ He demanded almost accusingly. 

Dele stared at him like he’d suddenly grown three heads. ‘’ _Walking_ towards you? What’s up with you, Jesus.’’ 

‘’I’m fine.’’ he insisted. ‘’Just-go dress up or something.’’ 

Dele reasoned in his head that something similar had happened the previous day, where Eric experienced something and didn’t want to tell Dele because he assumed that it would be a burden. But Dele didn’t want Eric to feel like that.

‘’Is someone -upsetting you?’’

‘’No.’’ Eric said, though his eyes flickered to the side for a second. The blonde sighed before moving to walk past Dele towards the bathroom so Dele grabbed his phone. 

Eric turned around so fast that Dele thought he had caught whiplash. ‘’Del, please give that back.’’ 

‘’You’re worrying me a little.’’ Dele said honestly. ‘’Remember yesterday? I thought we could talk about this stuff. Whatever it is-I’ll make it better.’’ 

Eric huffed and pulled on his dressing gown then folded his arms and stared at Dele in what felt like an hour before he spoke. ‘’It's just John being a dick, that's all.’’

Dele’s chest tightened. ‘’He’s messaging you? Eric you have to block him. Unlock your phone.’’

Eric didn’t respond. 

Dele glanced up at him, the boy wasn’t looking at him, instead was running a hand anxiously though his hair and pacing around. ‘’I can’t-’’ he shook his head. ‘’I can’t fucking do this anymore.’’

‘’Can’t do what?’’ Dele questioned, feeling about five minutes late to everything that was unravelling. ‘’What- _this?_ ’’ he furrowed his eyebrows. ‘’We finally have sex and that's it?’’

‘’ _No.’’_ Eric said, frustrated, balling his hands into a fist and framing the length of his face, his blonde hair resembling a bird’s nest in the light of the day. ‘’You don’t get it.’’ 

Just-something didn’t feel quite right. Like the centre of the earth’s gravity was off point _just so_ or like Raheem from school paying him a compliment for once. 

Dele turned around and walked over to the imposing, draped curtains and pushed them open, welcoming in a bit of light into the room. They were on the sixth floor and it was an early Sunday morning. It was bright but it wasn't warm, one of those odd days in April where the wind felt chilly and the clouds looked damp in the sky, threatening rain at any moment. He saw a few elderly women walking around, possibly on their way to Mass. 

‘’Look,’’ He said, glancing back at Eric who was standing just behind him now, clutching his dressing gown even tighter as he blinked at the sunlight. 

‘’Wh-Del?’’ The older boy frowned and then he sighed leaning the slope of his nose against the glass, his breath clouding it up. He drew back after a second and Dele used his index finger to draw a small smiley face in the condensation. Eric stared at it in silence and then glanced at Dele. 

‘’I’m trying to calm you down.’’ 

‘’Then give me my phone.’’ Eric said quietly. ‘’Please.’’ 

‘’Are you going to tell me what the fuck is making you this upset?’’ Dele demanded, staring at him. 

Eric groaned and then leaned his head back onto the window, right onto Dele’s little smiley face. Dele wrapped his arms around Eric from behind, caging him in, the blonde’s iPhone still tightly held in his left hand. Even in his slightly annoyed state, something burned at his skin at the feel of Eric’s ass against his crotch, just like yesterday and even the older boy’s breath hitched. Is that what they would become? Could they just use sex as a distraction whenever something felt off? He could bend Eric over right there and they could go at it like animals like they had before. But he hadn’t seen Eric like this in a while and the mention of John Stones had only aided his concern. 

They were silent for a while, Dele placing his chin on Eric’s shoulder as Eric in turn took deep, slow breaths and they watched the world turn from the window. In the distance there was a church bell ringing, a choir singing, down below across The Ritz was its huge carpark, they littered the space glamorously. At last Eric shifted, his hands finding Dele’s on his waist and slowly prying his iPhone back. Dele made a face.

‘’I need to tell you something.’’ Eric began ominously.

That much was very obvious, Dele thought. ‘’..Okay.’’ he replied cautiously, bracing himself, his arms were still around Eric’s waist but he was sure he was almost suffocating the boy now, his arms tightening instinctively. 

Eric hesitated again and Dele almost wanted to yell. 

‘’Just say it, Eric. What do you want to tell me? What is it? Stop fucking about with it.’’ 

‘’I-’’ Eric said, then cut himself off. 

Dele almost wanted to shake him. 

‘’I know who your parents are, Del.’’ 

If anything, Eric drops the bombshell very politely.

As if he hasn’t just completely ruined a part of Dele’s sense of self in just a couple of words. If anything, there’s a part of Dele that is _offended_ by Eric’s words. There was no way that Eric knew more about Dele than Dele knew about _himself_ . That was an offensive thing to think of, even more of an offensive thing to actually _say_ . That was an offence, _surely_ . He was surely _lying._

 _Liar,_ Dele thought as he stepped away from Eric as if he’d been stung. Eric turned towards him, his blue eyes shimmering - shame written all over his face as well as that hideous emotion- _sympathy_ \- it was a look of sympathy. 

Eric seems to urge himself to continue to speak. ‘’I was going through my mum's photo albums,’’ he begins, fidgeting with the tie of the damned dressing gown. ‘’And there was someone I’d never seen before, this mixed race kid, right..’’

‘’Fuck off,’’ Dele mutters under his breath, running a hand through his hair, his curls tangled from his long night’s sleep. 

‘’It was fucking _weird_ .’’ Eric says, desperately trying to stop Dele from walking away from him. ‘’The kid was in a family photo with Kate, her mum- Lilian- and this other black guy. And I - Dele-’’ he grabs his hand. ‘’I thought it might’ve been you but I didn’t _say_ anything because i wasn’t sure. But then Lilian was acting up- remember when she pretended not to have seen you before? So we figured that-’’

‘’..We?’’ Dele finds enough air to finally interject. ‘’Who’s _we_?’’ 

‘’Del..’’ Eric couldn’t even look at him. 

‘’John, right? You and John.’’ The _we_ was them. Eric and John. John and Eric, figuring out Dele’s past like it was a designated school project to ‘’help out the poor’’, something they maybe mused over during lunch time as a joke of sorts. ‘’When did you find the photos?’’ He questions then because Eric was being vague about it, about everything. 

Eric blinks at him, eyelashes fanning against the tops of his cheeks. His eyelashes are damp slightly but Dele kicks viciously at the instinct begging inside him to pull Eric into a hug, to kiss his eyelids or some other mushy crap. ‘’A-around December.’’ he admits at last.

‘’So,’’ he mentally counts in his head, quicker than he has in any of his maths lessons. ‘’Four months ago. That's a hundred and twenty days. How many times did we see each other? _Fuck,_ how many times did you fucking kiss me knowing that information?’’ he’s pushing Eric’s hands away now.

Eric sniffs and chokes out a sob as Dele scrambles to find his boxers that had been pulled off in a haste the night before. 

‘’I’m _so sorry_.’’ Eric snivels, rushing to close the blinds now and plunging them into darkness. ‘’I didn’t know for sure.’’

But he’d deemed it a possibility for four months. That was such a long time. That was ages ago. He’d been thinking about it since _last year._

"You should have told me. We could have worked it out together. But you ran to _John_ of all people-" even thinking about it makes Dele run delirious with anger. John, _again._ It was always John. Eric would always fucking be involved with John somehow. 

‘’But I didn’t run to him!’’ Eric yells now, voice strained, his throat is probably dry and the tears were leaking down his face. 

‘’I don’t believe you.’’ Dele says, hopping into his boxer shorts and then looking to grab his shirt.

The room still smells like sex. Like Eric underneath him calling him baby, then on top of him telling him he was in love with him, it all still smelt like yesterday and it was irritating the fuck out of him because his mind was spinning as he tried to process everything. In the short term all he could focus on was his anger and not even on the most revealing of new information that Lilian was his fucking _mother_. That Kate was his _half sister_ or whatever. And that’s not even considering when Kate had told him her brother had apparently died when he was younger, a story surely fed to her by Lilian. 

‘’I know it sounds bad, I know- but I didn’t tell him about it- he _found_ out; he came into my room-’’

‘’So you’ve been seeing each other behind my back?’’

‘’That's not fucking true and you know it!’’ Eric cried, rubbing away his tears with the back of his hand fiercely. ‘’You know that I’m in love with you, you _know_ that.’’ 

‘’I don’t _know_ anything. I don’t fucking know anything, _evidently_ as you’ve literally just ruined everything I thought was true so I don’t-I don’t-’’ his chest tightened as his thoughts ran ahead of him. ‘’And you’ve lied to my face so many times,’’ he says, some memories hitting him in the face. ‘’At Diana’s funeral, when Lilian was fucking staring at me, you _knew_ why. You fucking knew, Eric."

He can't stay here anymore, like this. He just _couldn’t._ Because he's discovered he is the product of one of Lilian's _flings_ or whatever. Because Eric is seriously attempting to break his heart whether he means to or not. Because it felt like everything Eric had been saying was disingenuous, it felt like every moment had been wasted, it felt like he’s been laughing behind his back with John this whole time. Like John had dared Eric to make Dele fall in love with him just for the thrill of it. 

"I tried to tell you.’’ Eric says clinging to his shirt like a vice now as Dele does up his buttons, fingers shaking. ‘’But something always came up.."

Dele scoffed. ‘’Like what?’’

‘’Like..’’ Eric bit on his lip, shame colouring his cheeks red. ‘’Like you kissing me or just-’’

‘’Oh what a crime it should be to kiss someone that looks like you, right? I take full responsibility.’’ he said, sarcasm dripping in excess. 

Eric shook his head.‘’ _Dele_ -stay, please.’’

"I can’t. Think about it Eric. Really think about it. I’ve grown up thinking I’m essentially an orphan for a decade and then you spring this shit on me and expect me to what- _cuddle you_?" Hes getting up now, stumbling around then, looking for his phone, finding his socks. Eric follows him silently, eyes rimmed red. Dele can’t look at him.

‘’Talked to John behind my back, lied to me, told John before you told me. You’d tell the world before you told me! Does Eriksen know?’’

‘’No! It’s not like that. Stop, Del’’ Eric takes a sharp inhale of breath.

He knows the older boy is sobbing but he just can’t - Dele can’t look at him. He’s been flung into a pit and left to the lions. ‘’And all your snotty classmates do they know?’’ 

"It's not like that!" Eric matches his tone. "You're deliberately twisting it up." he walks past Dele to stand by the door, arms spread out behind him. 

"Get out of my way." Dele tells him quietly , after hes done putting on his shoes. 

"Stop acting like this." Eric says, not moving an inch. "Did you forget the past twenty four hours? You just fucked me; fucked me the way I’m supposed to be fucked-like I'm something _special_ . You’re not...you're supposed to _leave_ the people you love.’’

‘’And you’re not supposed to hide things from the people you love.’’ Dele counters, slipping on his jacket. ‘’Especially something like that. So I guess it doesn’t mean anything.’’ he adds blinking back tears. 

He couldn't tell the difference between fiction and fact anymore, the fine line had blurred and then some. "I'm still me from yesterday," Eric says grabbing the sides of his face gently, wanting him to _listen_.

‘’Not to me.’’ Dele responds quietly, taking Eric’s hand away. ‘’This whole time I’ve made up this version of you in my head; as this victim, this rich kid in need of saving. I wanted to be that person, I really wanted to save you." He takes Eric's hands down from his face. "But that's not who you are. You're not the fucking victim, Eric. _I am_."

There's a sharp knock on the door and they have a couple of seconds to get out of the way before the door is swung open and a member of staff wheels in their breakfast in its lavish form, overflowing bowls of new New York bagels and French croissants, two plates with a full on English breakfast. 

Eric isn't even looking at the food, his blue eyes are focused on Dele, watching him attentively. Theres something bugging Dele and he knows its the texts from john. He needs to see it. 

‘’Good morning,’’ the man says chirpily, arranging some of the cutlery with a flourish, his butler uniform a fine shade of emerald green.

Dele grunts something back and Eric tries to greet him politely. ‘’Can I see the texts?’’ he raises an eyebrow at Eric who unlocks his phone and tosses it at him before turning away to make conversation with the man. 

John is his most recent contact - which in itself is annoying. 

**JOHN STONES**

_What do you think happened to Dele's father tho?_

_I cant fucking wrap my head around this._

_Lilian has always been fucked but creating a narrative about a dead younger brother of Kate's is next level._

And then the texts that had come in that morning.

**JOHN STONES**

_Heard you and him are staying at The Ritz-bit fancy maybe?_

**ERIC**

_Why are you stalking me_

**JOHN STONES**

_Its Westminster, I know everything about everything and I was told you were caught buying fucking lube_

_Sleeping with Lilian’s son is pretty low, stop whoring around._

_You’re still not telling him what you know are you? Always been a little devious..I taught you well ;)_

It makes him sick to his stomach, the whole conversation, every ounce of it. John’s arrogance, the way Eric responds gives him chills, the casual discussion of him and Lilian, the way John carries himself, even though his texts, disgusts him. 

The man smiles at them, first at Eric next to him and then towards Dele frowning in the corner, clearly oblivious to the tension in the room that's hovering above them all and mistaking it for sexual tension. "Good night?" He asks, maybe he can smell the sex in the air, the fact that they've both got serious cases of bed hair. 

Eric doesn't say anything and neither does Dele, he's looking at Eric, hoping he can use his brilliant capacity for words in the English dictionary to find words to make him stay. But he doesn't speak. So Dele doesn't stay. 

He clears his throat. "I’m gonna head off actually, so please don’t add my share of food onto his bill.’’ Dele slips the phone into the pocket of Eric’s dressing gown and Eric grabs his hand. 

‘’Eric, I’m not going to stay…’’

‘’I know.’’ Eric says, biting down on his bottom lip. ‘’Just..just get back safe, okay. I know its a lot for you to take in.’’

‘’Not as if that bothered you before.’’

‘’ _Dele_.’’

‘’I’m leaving.’’ he announces, walking out of the room-just like that. He can’t look back or he might see all that reminded him of yesterday and cry himself into a heap. He’s going down the hallway, sees that woman from last night waiting by the lift-her hair pulled into a casual ponytail as she scrolls through her phone and decides to take the stairs instead. 

Usually when they argue, Eric follows him but he knows that won't happen now and he doesn't want it to. He’s just so fucking disappointed, is all. He knew what he was getting in to when he started to like Eric, he’d never exactly been an open book, and he was narcissistic in many ways, self-destructive in others. But still he'd perhaps been a bit too reverent, maybe naïve even. 

And as Dele was stumbling out of the hotel he was trying to adjust to his new reality as Lillian's son. As Kate's half brother. 

The daylight outside was startling, blinding, just like the truth was. 

He doesn't break until he gets on the train heading back to East London and then because it's a Sunday morning and most people are too lazy to be out at eleven. Theres no one there to judge him and he realises that he's been crying halfway through his train journey and he doesn't even know when he started but the tears don't stop.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sort of unrelated but - I don't know how closely you guys follow Spurs but with the way things are going between Jose and Dele, he might not be at Tottenham for too long- he might even go next month. And that is upsetting for me slightly. In fact, I actually wrote this chapter full of anger towards the way Jose constantly digs him out. I've supported this club since 2015, I witnessed Dele at his best, he has always been my favourite player, I relate to his real life family situation which is why I have always felt close to him- its why I wrote this story. I understand why he would leave but I will support him personally wherever he goes- I guess i just wanted to rant about that. 
> 
> Thank you for reading, see you next year in 2021 which is hopefully better for us all ! x


End file.
